


Sky of Shattered Stars

by mintedstar (forevermint)



Series: Sky of Shattered Stars [1]
Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Gen, OoTS Spoilers Big Time, POV Multiple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 07:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 25,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20689925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forevermint/pseuds/mintedstar
Summary: There are some cats that are never supposed to die.Cats that are so deeply tied to the fate of the world, that if they were to parish, nothing would ever be the same.And now, the sky has cracked.Because what was never supposed to happen ... well ... it has. As the stars slowly disappear from StarClan, the clans are thrown into chaos. Cats aren't dying and so many other things are wrong. Among them, a few cats start to connect the dots.Can they fix this?Do they want to fix this?





	1. Chapter 1

Broken light. Filtering through hardened stone and lighting up around the edges in bright highlights. The sun doesn't reach down here. It doesn’t stretch down through the earth's crust, only broken light.  
You may remember the stories told to you, of course. We all assume you remember the Great Battle, between the great powers of light and dark. History fighting the present. With the remembered and faded.  
But does anyone here remember the Immortals? The ones from the beginning of time, who told tales to bring all the stars into place? Maybe you remembered the sun and shadow slashed badger more. Such a metaphor she is. Stuck in dark and light equally yet gains far more interaction with the warriors of stars. But the other? The blind, hairless tom, exposed to all eyes but his own yet hidden below ground where no one can remember him.  
Ah, but there is one who remembers everything that lives. There are creatures in this world with all-seeing eyes and boundless memories.  
Pity.  
I never remember the Immortals either. Usually, they aren't within my field of vision. I have a boundless memory of all things that concern me, but I forget them at the drop of a bird, neck broken, on the fresh kill pile. Why am I down here now, with only this blind tom in my mind, you ask? Ah, well, let’s actually locate me first.  
I am that shadow, walking along the edge of your vision. Don't try to focus too quickly or the image will slip away. The play of light from the holes in the ceiling reflect off my black pelt. My hollow eyes scan the rock below, picking out details even the cats of the shadow forests would not. Hollow eyes with bright blue lights deep within their depths. Look away quickly now. I wouldn't want to warn you as to why.  
Have you guessed who I am yet? Why Rock's name never comes to mind, even though I know yours, you mother's and father's and every living soul’s. It's the dead I forget. Why remember someone I will never meet? But it seems like this is not always the case. Even gods can die. Sooner or later, even at the ends of worlds, I meet everyone.  
But some things are never supposed to happen. I cannot die. Nor can my siblings. Not while there is breath within time.  
This immortal should not be able to die.  
No sound echoed off the walls as my pawsteps paused and then ended. Still. An unassuming tunnel.  
The shadow's ears pulled forward, listening to the harsh, faltering breath of the cat-shape lumped in the corner.  
I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD SEE YOU HERE, ROCK, the black and white tom said. The tom wasn't exactly able to answer. Didn't need to. Death, for that was who the cat was, allowed a hollow sigh to rattle round his body.  
Unsheathing his claws, which were the same ice blue as his eyes, he slashed down with them, freeing the trapped soul from its body.  
And where was StarClan might you ask? Oh, I am sure that they are around. In some way they always are. But I am first and foremost death. The occurrence, the ability. Neither I nor StarClan can take an immortal soul. They break the law by existing and so it breaks ever rule to take them. Yet I must complete the action, it can be no other way. Even though I know what consequences it will have.  
The Law, somehow, has been broken. And when one law breaks, everything else seems to fall apart in the panic.  
Eyes turn upward, looking for stars I can't see thanks to the tunnel roof between me and them.  
Makes no difference. The Law has been broken. They won’t be there much longer.


	2. Soulcatcher

What bright stars there are. The widest kit-eyes looks up at them, blinking new eyes and watching them as if they tell her all the answers. Maybe she wishes that they did. Maybe they'd bring her out of the carnage around her. A war that was far too costly and sad for the young to see. Maybe she looks to the stars because that is where her mother now rests.  
The order of things is interrupted, but of course the little grey kit, with her eyes so wide, doesn't know that. Right now, all she can do is look up, and she hums as her father presses into her, as if trying to draw comfort from a kit that can give none. Maybe she is just old enough to understand what I am. Maybe someone has only explained to her that the stars have taken her in. But not that she will never feel her touch, her tongue grooming her pelt, that all these things will fade to memories and then fade further into mere dreams.  
Or perhaps that is a lie now.  
The recent battle that has decimated all these lake cats is a time of mourning. But sometimes it is hard to morn what is no longer a fact.  
A breath pulls into the father's chest, the swift heartbeat of the kit, fluttering like a bird's wings are trapped within her chest. A tail twitches. And the kit is the first to notice the movement. Not of her father's tail, no. Of the mother, who's fur has been licked clean and arranged in a neat pile, ready for burial. She does not breath, her heart does not beat ... but slowly she moves. As if waking up. An ear, a stretch of a muscle, the breath sighing against her lips as she slowly, slowly takes one in.  
Does one take it as a sign from those hollowed ancestors? When your dead are given new life? Or does one see it like a shadow of a carrion bird's wing? A signal that this is but a sign that there is worse to come.  
Around me, I see the signs. Prey is killed and eaten, and I am there. Death hasn't stopped completely. But there are certain things that cannot function as they once did.  
In those funny little stories, you've heard, you always seem so attracted to the forest dwellers. I often wonder why. They hold little appeal other than those mystic three you know so well. The sun does not rise and set over ThunderClan territory. Ah. But as I make that point, I focus on them anyway. Because though they suffered the least loss, they are also an epicenter of importance in my story.  
As much as I hate to admit.  
Focus, instead, on the mangled ferns, bushes, and scarred tree trunks of this forest. Battles, both private and large, were waged in this small stretch of land. Blood still dries on the ground where a body was pressed into the grass, teeth meeting flesh and bones howling in pain as they tried to force a much heavier opponent off them.  
I saw my sister quiet often yesterday. Each of my visits, she was there, those deserted, empty eyes, that blood covered muzzle. She thinks herself quite witty, that one. Her presence causes every living thing to growl, hackles to rise and teeth to be shown. War and petty squabbles. And where my brothers and sisters are, I always follow. When they are finished with their fun, I step in to do the real work. I do not dance around the battlefield like some young kit who has just found the latest toy. I do not haunt the medicine den and glare at those wise cats like they've inserted burrs into my mouth as they undo my work. I do not grumble and complain as the days grow longer and warmer or giggle as they grow shorter and around me cats grow leaner. No, I do my job as I intend to do my job. I am the end of their laughter. The end of everything. If you wanted the beginnings of things, you should not have looked to me.  
The irony that I must pad through these bloody ferns now, to a clan that I have only a fleeting interest in. None there should see me, any more than they can see my siblings as they play. None there _should_, but now that things are the way they are that will very soon change. Slowly, the rules that we Banes hold so dear will unravel and fray like over-washed cloth.  
None should see me yet, but sight is not always the favored mode of finding something.


	3. Dovewing

Most often, a shadow has something attached to it.  
It was hardly dawn, but light filtered into the center of camp, white-washing it, making it look like bleached bones.   
All in all, it was enough to make me shiver. The analogy was horrible, considering the contents of the camp. Warriors with wounds that, a small part of me worried, would never heal. Jayfeather moved from cat to cat, putting on plasters and cobwebs where they were needed and never tiring. I could hardly believe that, since I was already weaving on my paws from exhaustion. Cold to the horror and pain that should have been wreaking havoc inside of me. The dead were neatly arranged in the center of camp and when my eyes went to them ... this was when I saw the shadow.  
I looked up, of course, fur suddenly bristling. The shadow was cat-shaped, unattached to any feline form, but I was reminded of hawks in flight. Yet the sky was clear, even of clouds. And when my eyes returned to the earth I found that the shadow hadn't moved. Cat shaped, sitting next to the body of Ferncloud. My eyes narrowed, trying to tell what it was, suddenly afraid of Dark Forest warriors returning. But my eyes slid of the shape, down to Ferncloud's body, then back as I tried to refocus. Down, up, down, like my eyes were sliding off ice the more I tried to look at the shape. I wasn't sure if the staring was working, but the shadow finally moved, the bit on the ground that looked like a head turning upward. Or, after judging the shape, that's what I thought it was doing. The hair on my flank stood on end, bristling further, because if that was true, then whatever was attached to the shadow would be looking right at me.  
The place where I thought the head might be warped, and for the smallest of seconds I thought I saw something blue. But then there was a sharp intake of breath to my left and the shadow and any thought about it shattered. Dustpelt was next to me, his own fur on end and he shook his head, disbelieving. I thought he might have seen the shadow too and I opened my mouth to ask him about it when my eyes were drawn to movement in the middle of camp. The general hubbub of movement around camp came to a stuttering halt. The other cats waiting for treatment watched, mouths slowly opening as Ferncloud's tail twitched and then shoulders moved as she pressed herself up, unsteady and groggy. The few bodies around her were less responsive, but they too moved as if they were merely waking up from a deep and heavy sleep.  
My paws felt like lead and I wasn’t sure whether I should praise StarClan or run in terror. No one else seemed to know what to do either. They all huddled – or cowered – where they sat, seeming to be oh so deadly quiet and oh so deadly still. When those who should have all those words and more to describe what was happening where shaking their heads, eyes growing brighter and shaking legs firmer in stride. A dry rattle escaped Dustpelt’s throat like the life had been sucked out of him to reanimate that of his loved ones.  
There was no sound. Not a whisper, not a scream, not a breath of air. I didn’t know how long the spell of silence lasted, with the once-dead-now-living cats huddled together and looked across that invisible line between themselves and the rest of ThunderClan.  
Then Ivypool seemed to shake off whatever had happened and bound forward, crossing that line. One cat flinched and another gasped. Ivypool circled Mousefur, eyes wide, sniffing at her fur, brushing against her. “You’re not …” she murmured, the first words that I had heard uttered. Mousefur looked uneasy, disturbed even, at Ivypool’s attention. Her tail lashed, and I thought that pretty soon it would be her claws instead of the fluffy appendage.  
“Get out of my fur,” she finally hissed and Ivypool backed off, her own fur rising a bit on her shoulders. It was Firestar that her eyes were then drawn to. Maybe that was who so many of the cats in the camp were looking at. Firestar. Their leader. And that single thought caused me to look at Bramblestar. Brambleclaw, since he’d yet to gain his nine lives. He looked bad, and I wondered just what my expression looked like. Our fallen were standing, having shaken off the dusty buds of lavender that Jayfeather had so carefully placed around them. It was beyond belief.  
Ivypool’s movements had begun to loosen the paws of everyone. There was a growing murmur of whispers and Jayfeather himself had snapped out of his revelry and was – with shaking paws – trying to stanch the bleeding on a wound on Foxleap’s chest. No rest for him, even as the camp was breaking into chaos. I was just waiting for someone to ask StarClan. Maybe we all were. Hackles were already starting to rise in distress and confusion. What was going on?  
“Quiet!” called a voice, sounding over the crashing voices and yowls that were already starting up. The cats in the center of attention, even Firestar, found their eyes widening. Hollyleaf’s black fur spiked and she stood there, hunched, fur touching no one’s on either side of her and not meeting the eyes of anyone who were staring at her.  
“Quiet!” called the voice again, this time real, forced anger in the tone. Words stuttered to a halt and I looked around, finally breaking the spell set on myself, keeping me still and only able to observe. Squirrelflight. Her ginger flank rising again to call the word, just as soon as someone dared speak. Her green eyes held a fire that never lay in them before tonight.  
“The next cat who speaks out of turn,” she said. “Will not get to speak at all.” The words were ice, cold and slippery. She looked around the cats, then took in a – to my mind – shaky breath. She was unnerved, scared, too. She looked at her father and said, “Fa – Firestar,” she’d cut herself off from saying ‘father’ as well. “What is happening?” The ginger tom that so resembled his daughter looked at a loss for words. His eyes were drawn skyward and mine couldn’t do anything but follow.  
The stars above blazed the same as ever. Bright. Carefree. To the west, however, just above where you were unable to see anything but the dark outlines of the trees on the hollow’s brim … lights flickered across the expanse, one by one flying – no falling – from the sky. Shooting stars.  
“StarClan is falling,” whispered someone near my ear. My head whipped around, gaze torn away from the sky above … but the only one near me was Dustpelt. He was looking up at the falling stars as well and shuddering, incapable of speech.  
Who had said that? Who whispered this …omen?  
And I looked back at the cats of ThunderClan, huddled against each other and away from the forms of Ferncloud, Hollyleaf, and the rest. No … not an omen.  
A reality.


	4. Jayfeather

Squirrelflight had ordered everyone to their dens and I found myself following the order to go to the Moon Pool just as easily. My head was in chaos, as I assumed all were.  
Each pawstep was jerky and hesitant. I wasn’t prepared for this. If I didn’t hurry than I wouldn’t make it before dawn. My shoulder muscles bunched, and I broke into a trot, saving my energy while still moving faster then I might have otherwise. ThunderClan was close to the Pool at least. If they were as far away as RiverClan then it really would have been a hopeless mission.  
The wind pulled at my fur, blowing into my face, playing with my ears. I made my way through ThunderClan territory with familiar ease. I could navigate the forest of my home without problem. As soon as I got to the moor, however, I slowed. The road ahead would be hard.  
My internal clock estimated that it would be a few hours before dawn. Time. Time would be what mattered.  
I scrambled along the path, paws slipping into the imprints of the ancients. I had to slow here, breath coming in and out of my body in whooping breathes. My legs shook, but I continued moving forward, the quiet and flowing water calming me down a little. Not a lot, but a little.  
Slowly, I approached where I knew the edge of the Pool was. My nose dipped down, and I lapped at the cool water, eager to get the cold down my throat as much as I was for answers.  
My shoulders shook as I slowly lowered myself to the ground, tail winding around my paws as I tried to relax.  
The call of sleep hovered at the corner of my mind, tugging and then pulling me under the surface.  
It was like drifting into the deep, dark expanse of the lake. My eyes flickered open, I could sense them doing so, but couldn’t see anything. I could feel something lapping around at my shoulders, my tail, my back. But I could see nothing.  
“Is this how it’s always going to be,” I asked, voice tired. “Now that my powers are gone?” I never thought I’d miss being able to see in dreams. I’d been able to do so since birth and had taken it for granted.  
“Gone?” rasped a voice in my ears. I flinched but couldn’t move any more quickly then I might have in water. The voice had sounded like it had come from a set of rare lungs. Old, dying, sick.  
“Who said they were ‘gone?’” asked the voice, still sounding as close to my ear as before. I tried not to shudder.  
“Are you StarClan?” I asked. Panic rose in my chest as I realized that without my sight I wouldn’t be able to tell. Dark Forest or StarClan it made no difference.  
“I know of them. As I know of your Dark Forest. Though my brother is far more familiar with them than I. However,” said the voice. “I am above them. Just as you are above them.”  
I was slowly getting over the sound of the voice, but it wasn’t easy.  
“Who are you? And why do you make it sound like my powers aren’t gone?” The mission that had brought me here set aside in the face of information that was personally meant for me.  
“Your powers are your own. They are merely dormant. Dormant because [i]I[/i] am dormant. Sleeping, not gone. As soon as I am free, then they will be as they were before.” But the voice didn’t answer the first question and I knew it was on purpose.  
“You had questions when you came here?” rasped the voice, this time in my other ear. There was a wet cough and I flinched again, disgusted. I wished I could roll away, but I’d tried that already and it had seemed useless. “I’m here for StarClan … not [i]you[/i].” I tried not to hiss, but the snap still entered my voice.  
“They are a bit busy falling from the sky right now,” said the voice, completely unabashed about how sick they sounded. “But you knew that already, didn’t you? Asking me … is not the best idea. I am not in charge of the dead.”  
“Why are you in the Moon Pool?” I asked, and I knew my fur was spiking.  
“I’m not,” answered the voice. “I’m right next to your ear. Whispering to you while you’re asleep.” There was a grin there that I didn’t even need to see. The hacking cough that followed didn’t break up the chill that was running down my spine. “What?”  
“Oh, not actually, but I’ve never been that far from you, medicine cat. Still …” And finally, the voice retreated. “I may be going away soon. I’m … very weak already. My brother will be the one you see before me, of course. Than myself … and the rest will follow. It is unavoidable. The stars are falling Jayfeather. No prophesy will protect you from that. Clan cats … so in need of guidance. Take these words of wisdom as your ‘omen’.” The voice grew fainter, if possible. “Death is coming to walk among you. If you reject it than life will never be normal. If you wish the stars to return to the sky, you must bring together the end of the world.”  
And then the voice, with another hacking cough, faded into nothing.  
I floated into the darkness, still completely dark. The light of dawn never reached my eyes and it was only the chill of the ground under me before I finally jerked awake. Slowly I got to my paws, nothing in the air hinting that there was another cat that had been here. I shivered. I was … afraid. Afraid of what I didn’t know and what had been said.


	5. Ivypool

They slept where they had been laid out. Firestar, Mousefur, Hollyleaf, and the others. Some warriors wanted them to return to the dens, to get out of the elements, but emotions were high and even then … not many warriors were going to sleep tonight. They might have all stayed in the center of camp, watching the ark of stars across the sky had Squirrelflight not ordered them away. The falling stars were watched from the den entrances until they all seemed to stop. The sky, Blossomfall noted to me, looked as full of stars as it ever had. I agreed … but that didn’t mean my prickling skin hurt any less.  
Some warriors managed to sleep.  
I was not one of them.  
I lay awake in my nest, aware of the place Hollyleaf would have slept if she had been there. If she hadn’t been outside, dea – curled up alone where none one could touch her. Far separated from the others because I … I knew how she felt. I already knew that there was a distance between the other warriors within this den, me, and Blossomfall. My father had been taken in by Jayfeather, along with Mousewhisker, so they were spared the fact that everyone had inched their nests just a little way away from each of us, as if under our current situation we should really be placing petty differences between each other.  
Dovewing was even more distant then usual and though there were faint murmurs of conversation in the back (Squirrelflight tried, but there was no keeping it quiet) and I could see the lump of her fluffy fur in the dark. The moon shinning down through the entrance of the den and bathing her in its light. Yet I knew she wasn’t asleep. Her chest didn’t rise and fall the way that Blossomfall’s was. There was no true rest in my sister’s muscles.  
I relaxed as best I could, letting my mind drift. What would happen? Everything had just been put off, suspended until a later time. She didn’t think there was anything that they could do. Jayfeather would be going to the Moon Pool while Leafpool looked after the injured. And if this was happening everywhere? Then she didn’t know. Maybe it would solve something if Jayfeather could talk to the stars. If there were any left.  
Dawn came earlier than I expected and filtered into half lidded eyes. Most cats woke up at once or, as many weren’t sleeping to begin with, they simply migrated their hushed conversations outside to attempt to escape Squirrelflight’s glares. I dragged myself out with them, since there seemed little other choice. Much like a wide birth was being given to the once-dead cats they equally were avoiding me as I headed from the center of camp. Unlike the others, I approached Hollyleaf, marching right up to her and forcing a smile onto my face. “Hello,” I said. I felt awkward. Hollyleaf had saved my life not even a day ago. I had grieved. And yet here she was, alive and whole. The black she-cat’s head swiveled and fur around her scruff arched a little. I wondered if she had been bugged recently or whether she was just considering that I was bugging her now.  
“Yes?” she questioned, eyes narrowing a bit. I was a bit nervous, since I really didn’t know what to say after that. It was like we came from completely different clans – no – completely different worlds.  
“I …” I hesitated. “I just wanted to know if you wanted anything to eat?” I had to keep the question mark there. Hollyleaf seemed to relax a little, since there seemed a little bit of give between the two. I wasn’t asking anything of her or – I was trying not to at least - staring at her like she was a mutation.  
Where things ever going to calm down around here?  
“I’m okay,” Hollyleaf finally answered. She side-eyed Firestar and Ferncloud who were huddled near each other. I knew that I was close to Blossomfall, Mousewhisker, and Birchfall simply because of the Dark Forest training. It seemed like this condition had also brought these cats, even if just for now, together.  
I felt guilty that something had been broken because of this strange occurrence that had brought my clanmates back.  
I felt myself drawing away a little, feeling awkward and alone. Hollyleaf blinked at me slowly and I half expected her to open her mouth and call me back. But she didn’t, and I drifted away, padding for the medicine cat den in the vain hope that Jayfeather would be back by now. My wounds, still healing of course, were itching and aching as well, causing my steps to stiffen at each step.  
Leafpool looked rattled and I didn’t blame here. Cats kept approaching her and chattering about what was on everyone’s mind. She had gotten to the point that she was snapping at every warrior to shut up and let her treat their wounds. She turned sharply when I padded up and I hurriedly said, “My wounds are hurting, and I was wondering if the poultices needed to be changed.”  
Leafpool relaxed a little but still eyed Ivypool warily as she started sniffing at the packed-on herbs that had been applied last night. Other warriors were within the den, injured because of the battle or shocked because of last night’s occurrences.  
She backed up a bit and said, “It’s fine. I’ll replace a couple of them, but for now you need to rest.” She didn’t seem to be able to look in the direction of her father and her daughter and I couldn’t really blame her. “Though that might be hard to ask right now.”  
She went about her work and I didn’t say anything. Leafpool needed the break. But she did my best to make sure that I didn’t hinder it in any way. I breathed in and out carefully as she reapplied the herbs and cobwebs and left when she was finished with a “Thanks Leafpool” so that she could deal with the next problem.  
This at least passed the time.  
Jayfeather was back.  
He tracked back into camp, paws heavy, and was at once assaulted by questions. Cats hurried up and Jayfeather had to raise his tail for silence. “Firest –” he stopped himself and I realized he was used to calling to his grandfather as a leader. “Bramb –” and here he stopped again, because what did it matter? The slight conflicting matter was there were two living leaders within ThunderClan and if it wasn’t for the fact there was already chaos than I knew this would cause more.  
Jayfeather took in another breath and simply took the middle ground. “Squirrelflight!” The deputy, and at least there was little chance she would be disputed as such yet, padded forward to hear Jayfeather’s news, though that wasn’t to say that the other cats weren’t close to hear the same. Jayfeather ignored them and motioned for Squirrelflight to come away to the leader’s den where no one else could follow. I saw Firestar at the edge of the crowd, a mix of pride and sadness in his eyes. I didn’t remember him saying much, if anything, since last night with the falling stars. He was a leader and now a social outcast do to circumstance. I felt guilt gnaw at me, but I knew I was no better than any of the other cats walking with wide circles around him. It was unnatural, the dead coming back to life. And dealing with it seemed hopeless.  
_We all wish the dead alive so often we don’t really think what how we’d react if it happened, _ I thought. I had to shake that feeling as it really did nothing for me. We’d all be waiting to hear what Jayfeather had to say, or what Squirrelflight had to say for him. But I looked over at Hollyleaf and Ferncloud and the others cast around the far end of the group of there clanmates. They were alive. They were alive but weren’t supposed to be. Did the first point ever have a chance of outweighing the last once the shock wore off?  
Right now, I couldn’t see it, but the possibility was still there. It was a disturbing and tantalizing one, I had to admit.


	6. Lionblaze

The fresh-kill pile was getting dangerously low and even though my belly rumbled in immense hunger I once again passed it by.  
My fur ruffled every time I walked past my sister and waiting for what Squirrelflight would say. I wanted to rush to Hollyleaf, be amazed that she had cheated death once again. But this time it felt unnatural. This time things weren’t right, and the air crackled with electricity. The sky above was clear and cold with the chance wisps of wandering clouds but that mattered little. There was a storm, swirling around in this little camp.  
And then Hollyleaf approached me. It was the first time she’d broken ranks with her private guards of Firestar and Ferncloud, turning away from them and walking deeper into the crowd that was waiting for the deputy to say something. Her path was created by warriors bending away from her and whispering, looking to one another as if they were afraid her touch would curse. My heart broke at the thought that such a thing would happen to her, now that everything had turned out like this.  
Her shoulder brushed mine, but in a hesitant way, like she feared I’d pull back. I didn’t but breathed in slowly her scent. The same musty tinge she always wore, like dirt and green grass. Hints of lavender still clung to her, however, and it served to remind me that she wasn’t …  
Wasn’t what, exactly? Where had my traitorous mind been wandering?  
“How are you?” he asked, keeping his voice steady.   
“As best as can be expected,” Hollyleaf answered. She wasn’t looking at him, nor did she seem to be focusing on the surrounding cats. Her face was a practiced blank, hard and fast in the same expression as she waited for something to happen. I did my best to think up something … normal … to ask her. But nothing came.  
“What do you remember?” he choked out, feeling guilt explode in his chest even as he asked the question. It wasn’t right to pry into her head, most of all with these many witnesses so close at hand. Hollyleaf also seemed to realize this and her eyes focused, scanning everything near her. They were either chatting with each other and shooting her the occasional glance or they were clearly listening. “Everything,” she responded anyway, which caused a hitch in this surrounding conversation as the cats around her took in this information. Hollyleaf, unnatural as she was, remembered everything. I felt myself shiver, despite my attempt to stop it. I could feel my sister trying not to look hurt.  
“I can’t expect you to accept this,” she murmured, low enough that others might not so easily be able to hear her. “But can’t just enjoy that I’m here for a second.”  
I licked at her ear, trying to reassure her, but I wasn’t sure I completely felt everything that I was doing. My movements felt too cold. Still, perhaps she was right. Maybe this electric feeling, like a pent-up storm, would just blow away without coming to head.  
“Do you really believe we can?” I asked, choking on the words of doubt and waiting for her to salve them. She was smart, maybe smarter than Jayfeather. A tactician. Someone with all the plans and understanding of the world. If she told me that everything would be alright, then I would believe her.  
Her head turned, one single green eye looking into my face. In that eye was a lot of emotions, most of which I couldn’t begin to name. “No,” she breathed. And my stomach fell, shoulders hunching and spirits coming back to earth. Both of our head turned back to pay attention to where Jayfeather had disappeared. For once I could almost think of a normal question to ask, though it still addressed an abnormal situation. “How long do you think before they tell us what happened at the Moon Pool?” Hollyleaf shrugged. Her voice was still uncharacteristically soft as she said, “Perhaps StarClan told him unwelcome news. Perhaps StarClan is no longer there at all. Or maybe he met the other medicine cats there.” I never thought of the last part. “D-do you think this is happening in other clans?”  
It was just the sort of things all my – our – clanmates were talking about. I’d listening in to so much of it already.  
“I don’t see why it wouldn’t have,” said Hollyleaf with a sigh. I wanted to ask what had happened just before she’d come back. The battle with the Dark Forest had so recently ended that I just couldn’t understand what was going on. StarClan had fought alongside us and now my sister was back. Why couldn’t I just think this a gift?  
She’d pulled a bit away from me now, ears angling forward as Squirrelflight exited the den, climbing up the rock pile. She looked small and awkward up there. Like she really didn’t know what should happen now that she was here. Clearing her throat, she just started talking. It was all too clear everyone was already within the camp. “Er …” she shook her head, getting her thoughts together. “StarClan has communicated with Jayfeather, our medicine cat, and issued a prophecy. _Death is coming to walk among you. If you reject it than life will never be normal. If you wish the stars to return to the sky you must bring together the end of the world. _” Her eyes swept the camp, picking out those who had … come back … as she talked. The pure silence that met her words caused cold shivers to push down my spine. Hollyleaf tensed next to me, looking around her as if she was waiting for someone to attack her. I couldn’t blame her. The words were heavy in my mind and I didn’t have a clue as to what they meant. It wasn’t even set up like a usual StarClan prophecy. None of the ones that I had heard.  
“What does it mean?” shouted Spiderleg from where he sat with the senior warriors. There was suddenly an explosion of conversation and cats moving to try and get to whoever they wanted to talk to.  
“Quite!” shouted a voice from the medicine cat den. I jumped, recognizing my adopted father’s voice and turned to look at him. His shoulders were strong, but he still looked a little frazzled. He was favoring a front leg, which still looked twisted. I wasn’t sure whether he was in there because he was hurt or because the shock of the returned warriors had affected him the same way it had Dustpelt. Within my head a voice whispered, _The coward. Letting his mate carry the weight of all this when she is probably the most affected. _ It was another voice I had to stamp down.  
Bramblestar padded forward, looking from face to face as he seemed to hold onto his next words. “There is no way to know what it means yet,” he answered Spiderleg. “But that means we’ll find out. StarClan has offered guidance in our time of need; we must trust that they have given us all the information needed to continue forward.”  
My attention was completely on Bramblestar and even though in my heart I wasn’t so sure I believed that I still found his words comforting. Hollyleaf shifted beside me, shoulders hunching and eyes downcast. I once again leaned against her, trying to offer reassurance, but they didn’t seem to work. Was there really nothing that they could do? How could they continue like normal? The prophecy practically stated that they needed to take all these cats back in if they were to move forward and everything would become normal again.  
Or was it saying that this was the start of the end of the world? My reassurances proved just as useless to Hollyleaf as they were to myself.


	7. Hollyleaf

While Lionblaze sat beside me I was looking at my other brother. Jayfeather had come out beside Squirrelflight but had descended the rock pile instead of ascending it to join her. His face was stony and blue, sightless eyes focused on his paws. His was the look that really sent shivers up my spine. It wasn’t a look of someone who felt in control.  
I shuffled away from Lionblaze, through the crowd of cats who – this time – were too busy with the latest news to make way for the freak.  
It was worse than the first time. I felt like cursing StarClan because this had already happened before. Did I deserve it those times? Yes. But this time I had finally hoped for some peace only to have my life – what little had been left of it – thrown into disarray.   
It was unfair to Ferncloud as well.  
None of us had talked much. We hardly dared. Mousefur snapped at anyone who got to close but I could see the fear and panic mirrored in her eyes just the same as it was anyone else’s. Ferncloud stuck close to Firestar, her gaze getting lower and lower every time a cat avoided her. Firestar … well, my grandfather remained quiet, spoke only when spoken too, and seemed to be calm where none of the rest of us were. It was only in his eyes that you could see the pain, the confusion, and fear. We were all scared. More than anything we were scared.   
With the distrust in camp I moved for the exit. No guards, no cat watching me. Another clan could attack, and we’d be helpless, but I knew full well that no attack would be forthcoming. If this was happening in all the clans, were they aware of StarClan’s prophecy? Or were they in a panic, trying to rally together just like we were?  
My black pelt rubbed against the barrier, scrapping loose black fur against the brambles and branches. My scent hadn’t faded, my eyes were still bright. I could feel my heart beating in my chest. How was I different from them? Yet in my head … stars dancing, the feeling of unstrained muscles and boundless energy. Paths of stars and welcoming voices. It was still all there, in my head, like a wonderful dream at the end of a nightmare. If I traced it all back to the final moment of that, it all looked the same. No warning, no tug or breaking, or losing consciousness. It was like waking up after a long sleep. My pelt was woundless, my paws sure. I knew that I was at full strength, but there wasn’t any way to use it. It would expend itself without me even trying.  
“What has changed?” I asked the trees stretching above me. Dark shadows flashed across my pelt as I walked, dappled leaves scattered under my paws. Leaf-fall had brought a chill to the air but there was no snow. It had been a tough time to fight a war, but ThunderClan would survive it. All the clans would. Prey would be hard to come by, true, but …  
I knew I was a tactic but following the lines of current events caused my brain to stutter and falter. I knew this couldn’t work. This world wasn’t sustainable anymore. StarClan was falling, maybe quickly and maybe slowly. Either way, things were changing. And I knew that it wasn’t for the better. Maybe some cats would learn to think it was, but the world was broken.  
“How does this all end?” I muttered, looking down at my paws. Breathing out, I had to press all that aside. Coming out here to think was once thing, but I needed to gain some attention. I scented the air, looking for the scent of anything. A bird, a mouse, or shrew. The scent of a starling final hit the roof of my mouse, though its musty scent was fading. My tail tip twitched and slowly I began to follow it. It was hopping along, looking for food, and all I had to do was catch it.  
The sound of wings fluttering catches my attention and my ears rose, sharp eyes tracking where the bird was going as it flew over a scraggly bush that was clinging to the roots of a tree. It landed on some of the upper branches of the bush and my muscles tensed, judging the distance. When I felt that my leap would be perfect I sprang forward, legs propelling me into the air and claws coming unsheathed as I caught the bird mid-flight. My paws brought it to my teeth to finish it off as I landed on the other side of the bush, skidding on the dirt and leaf mulch. The warm feeling against my muscle felt comforting and shaking out my fur I headed back for camp. Things weren’t the same, but if I acted normal then maybe things would start to settle down, at least for a little. I just needed … I needed to feel normal. It was all I could do to keep my ears angled forward. I would get normal back, if I had to fight for it I would. They couldn’t reject me forever, because wasn’t that what the prophecy said? If they accepted me, everything would be normal again.  
Right?


	8. Dovewing

If I’d still had my keen hearing than maybe I would have heard Hollyleaf come back. But I’d felt like moss had been stuffed in my ears ever since the Dark Forest battle, which worried me, but now was hardly time to pay attention to my own shock. It was just a bit of buzzing in my ear, there really wasn’t anything to worry about. But instead I was listening to the cats around me talk, only able to hear the ones in my immediate area. When Hollyleaf entered the camp again she walked with her head up, the starling in her jaws. Unlike before she didn’t skirt the edge of the camp and I and several others watched her walk, the hushed muttering going quiet. Hollyleaf set the prey down on the pile, face completely blank, and turned away. “What?” she asked lightly of Millie, meeting the she-cat’s eyes. A collective breath was released and everyone … just ignored what had just happened. I backed up, trying, almost, not to chuckle. Instead I headed for the medicine cat den. I needed to check on Dustpelt.  
Since last night he had been in shock, as Jayfeather put it. Trembling a little and eyes wide. Was it any wonder? He’d lost so much and suddenly, when he thought he’d lost everything, his mate turned out to be alive. He couldn’t even be there for his grown children.   
My paws carefully brought me into the den. Leafpool was hunched in a corner by a nest, worrying over Foxleap. I bit my lip, remembering how seriously hurt he was. Her dedication to him through all of this was heartening. Dustpelt had been standing next to me through the whole ordeal of the return of our clanmates and my father was here as well. I wasn’t sure if I could completely meet his eyes as I passed his nest, however. He didn’t look up, which caused my breath to ease.  
“How is he?” I asked Leafpool, coming up behind her and looking down at the injured warrior. Leafpool look so tired I was afraid she’d collapse at any moment. “He’s asleep,” she said. “But his injuries are … difficult.” I didn’t know what that meant, but Foxleap’s chest was only just rising. Something in me wondered if he’d come back like the rest if he died. Whole and unhurt, mystically.  
“Was there something you wanted?” Leafpool finally asked, breaking my attention. I frowned and then cast a glance around. “Is Dustpelt still here.” Leafpool shook her head. “He left.” Her expression showed a bit of concern at this, as if she wasn’t sure where he’d gone. “This clan is in for a very difficult time,” she murmured. “And so close to full on Leaf-bare as well. It won’t be easy.” And then she smiled at me, a kind smile that she’d never really directed at me before. “It’ll be alright.” Everyone kept saying that. Like it would become true if it was said often enough.  
She turned back to Foxleap, tail running over his side. This was practically permission to leave and I felt that maybe I should. Carefully I turned around, keeping my head down as I avoided the attention of my father who I knew was pretending to sleep.  
I was two steps away from the entrance when Leafpool sucked in a heavy breath, sharp and fast. “No, no, no. StarClan no.” My head whipped around, pelt tingling. She was hovering over Foxleap, who’s breathing was such a feather soft that I could hardly see any movement at all.  
“Dovewing!” Leafpool called, and I rushed back. She rattled off orders on herbs to find and my head buzzed as I bolted for the things she prescribed, paws trembling. But by the time I brought everything back the medicine cat’s shoulders had slumped. Her eyes were very dark as she looked down at the young warrior, her ears back. “He’s gone.”  
My breath caught in my throat and the leaves I’d picked up fluttered to the floor. Loss rolled through me as heavy as it would have if Foxleap had been my brother. He wasn’t someone who’d even been very close, but he’d still been my clanmate. I had shared meals with him. And now his scared and bloodied flank was still.  
Both me and Leafpool bowed our heads. It had been so sudden, like my presence had called up his death. I couldn’t feel guilt over that, however. There was no way to blame myself, only the Dark Forest warriors who had killed him.  
Someone whispered, and my head rose, but Leafpool still had her head ducked. Birchfall’s head had rose, but he was looking at Foxleap with sadness and not at me. My eyes were drawn to Foxleap, just a bit of hope in my chest and sickness because it still felt wrong to expect such things. But nothing. The tom still lay still.  
With a Dark Forest warrior directly across from his body.  
I screamed. I’ll admit it. My paws scrambled backward as I looked at the shadow of a cat, because what else could it be but the Dark Forest returned?  
Leafpool’s head shot up and she looked between me and the corpse. But as her head rose the shadow disappeared. She looked at me, sympathy and confusion in her gaze. Like I had some sort of delayed reaction to my clanmate’s death.  
“The Dark Forest!” I hissed at her, my grey fur spiking around my shoulders. “There was one here!”  
Leafpool’s own fur spiked, and she whirled. Birchfall stood, back arching, and his eyes searched the corners of the room with distrust for the shadows. Leafpool even went so far as to stick her head into the herb supply room just off the den, but there was nothing. It was hard to tell if the look she gave me was one of those ‘you’re crazy, aren’t you?’ ones.   
“Are you sure, Dovewing?”  
I nodded my head, but suddenly I wasn’t too convinced. Cats would be sticking their head in any second now and my face burned. Had I really been mistaken?  
And then Foxleap pulled in a breath. It might have been the second biggest surprise for me, but my heart was already beating too fast to care. This time we were all close enough to watch as his wounds knit themselves back together and life returned to his body. After less than a minute his head rose, and he blinked bleary eyes at us. “Wha….?” He seemed more confused than we were. “What happened?”  
Birchfall’s fur was still spiking and he backed up a pawstep. He looked between me and Foxleap, trying to wrap his head around what had just happened.  
Which was what I didn’t know. I didn’t know what had happened. Leafpool shook out her pelt, hesitantly stepping forward and poking at the cobwebs that still clung to Foxleap’s pelt. Under all of them was clean, unbroken skin and untorn fur. He wasn’t even that dirty, as if the blood that had been caked into his wounds had been pulled back into his body. “What is it?” he asked Leafpool. “I remember the Dark Forest and … I was really hurt. I’m in the medicine den … how’d I get here?” I looked at my father, who seemed to be trying to calm down.  
“You’re fine,” said Leafpool, a hesitant cross between amazed and shocked. Foxleap looked down at his paws, also amazed, but forcing a little nervous chuckle. “T-that’s good, right?”  
We didn’t answer him. How could we?  
And I couldn’t get that shadow out of my mind. Hadn’t I seen a weird shadow just before Firestar, Mousefur, Hollyleaf, and Ferncloud had come back? Was the Dark Forest still haunting us and did they have something to do with why these cats weren’t dying?


	9. Brackenfur

Despite all that was happening within the camp over the last two days things were almost enjoyable. It was the kits that were the hardest to deal with. They crowded close to their mother with questions and wide eyes of amazement. They didn’t understand what death was yet. Could make heads or tails of the shadows that had so briefly entered their life and then torn it apart.  
I stuck close to my mate and little brood, pelt brushing her soft fur and eyes roving over the other cats. Her body was stiff beside mine and every now and again I looked over. Almost enjoyable. Her pelt was perfect, not a scratch on it from the battle. The kits, their poor fur, had torn places and scuff marks. Her eyes didn’t meet mine often but watching our clanmates made me sick. Because she saw them too. Saw how they treated Ferncloud and Firestar and Mousefur.  
Even now most of the clan was still clinging to the camp, even though Squirrelflight had sent out hunting patrols. The clan wasn’t strong. The clan was unhinged. Their little gossiping groups throwing up distrust and fear like a festering wound. And here Sorreltail was, right next to me, hearing all this and I felt my heart breaking.  
“They never have to know,” I whispered, voice even too low for the kits who played at our paws to hear. Sorreltail flinched a little as she was released from her thoughts and looked at me. “But – ” Her statement was cut off by Dovewing’s scream and both our head whipped around to look at the entrance to the medicine den. We were in perfect tune. Sorreltail wrapped herself protectively around our kits as I rushed forward, legs pushing against the earth and stopping me just shy of the entrance. Other cats weren’t too close to respond, but I saw Icecloud and Rosepetal making their way over as well. Ducking, I pushed into the den that smelled of greens and musty plants, nose almost burying itself in Birchfall’s shoulder.   
“What’s going on?” I asked, trying to look past him. Birchfall turned his head and shuffled so I couldn’t see. “Out,” was his low hiss. “Now isn’t the time.” I glared at him. What right did he have to talk to me like that when he was in here, hiding from any sort of punishment? He’d worked with our enemies and –  
“Out, Brackenfur,” called Leafpool’s voice. “Tell everyone to get out of the entrance to my den. It’s nothing. Dovewing just stepped on a thorn.”  
I couldn’t tell if she was lying or not, but I respected her enough to do as she said. Turning, I carefully push my way back into camp, telling anyone nearby the same thing Leafpool had told me. There were several looks of relief and Icecloud was the last to retreat to her own little huddle of warriors.  
I returned to Sorreltail, who carefully asked, “What was it?” I shook my head, still not sure. There really hadn’t been anything to show me what had been happening within the medicine cat’s den. Glancing around, I located Jayfeather, who was checking up on all the cats who were injured. “Maybe you should head back to the nursery,” I said, watching him with a wariness that I’d never felt before. Sorreltail looked a bit sad. “He’d find out, sooner or later.” We had little fear of being overheard. There were still too many personal dilemmas going on to really affect anything we could do.  
Sorreltail did, however, begin shepherding the kits back toward their usual sleeping area and I followed her, keeping my head down. All this was to avoid the looks that Hollyleaf and the others were getting. Like they were poisonous. I could already imagine Spiderleg’s words if he knew what had happened to my dear Sorreltail.  
_”A-are you sure she’s safe? What about her kits? Do you really think they should be near her? What if there’s something in her milk or they get funny ideas. We don’t_know _anything about this. Wouldn’t it be best if everyone kept their distance for a while?”_ He’d already said something scathing about Dustpelt and Ferncloud. I couldn’t deal with him saying it about Sorreltail or worse – that other cats would agree with him enough to remove Seedkit and Lilykit from her.  
Sorreltail curled up within the darkness of the den, eyes looking around the shadows with clear fear. I hurriedly stepped up next to her, huddled close. She’d … she’d died in this den. And I hadn’t been there to protect her. I hadn’t been there to chase away the nightmares and she’d been hurt, and I never knew. Not until I’d come in here to check on her. She’d been huddled in the corner, shivering even though it hadn’t been cold, not a scratch on her pelt or a single injury. To begin with I’d been elated – thought she must have been the luckiest, brightest cat in the whole camp. And then the realization had sunk in that this was just what had happened to the others outside. I’d pulled her close, licking her ears until she stopped shaking and our kits found us. Since then we’d managed to avoid any excessive attention or suspicion from the medicine cats or clanmates. It couldn’t last.  
Now, to keep up appearances, Sorreltail continued to enter this den even as I saw her tremble with each second she was it there. I don’t know what the kits sensed, but they looked at her with worry in their eyes.   
I pressed myself close to her, feeling her muscles hop beneath my skin. I would trade anything to calm her, to tell her it was alright and for it to be so. But it wasn’t and here we were, playing out a prophesy without really knowing where it would end.  
“Shhh,” I whispered. “It’ll be alright.”


	10. Ferncloud

Hollyleaf’s entrance had sparked my attention. Firestar continued to stay close to me, his fur against mine, trying to be a comforting as possible while I looked around. By now, at least, most of our clanmates were going about daily business. Ignoring and pretending we weren’t there. I admired Hollyleaf, who was walking around as if nothing had changed. She contacted Squirrelflight and asked if there were any patrols she’d like her one, though the deputy had seemed surprised. I glanced up at Firestar, who had settled for sitting near the Elder’s den. That was one positive change I noted. Purdy had been ecstatic about Mousefur’s return. The grumpy elder had been welcomed back into the almost empty den and seemed to be expected to act as usual. I hadn’t, however, seen an apprentice or kit near the den yet and the warriors seemed to be avoiding it as well.  
It was hard to talk to one another. Even to Firestar, though his usual expression was so calm. Hollyleaf seemed to be trying to work her way back into the world of a warrior, Mousefur was Mousefur and already had taken her den back with a vengeance, challenging anyone who would take it from her again. And there was Firestar and me. A leader and a queen who couldn’t go back so easily. I missed Dustpelt. I hadn’t seen him since yesterday and I knew that me … being here wasn’t something that had treated him well. Firestar had the difficulty of having a leader already in place here and I hadn’t seen Sandstorm exchange more than a brief couple words with him. There was no telling whether the leader position wasn’t still his. Apart from the fact all cats around him, his friends and family, would hesitate to follow any orders he gave.  
“You’ll need to talk to Bramblecla – sta – claw,” I said, tail flicking. “Bramblestar,” Firestar corrected me. “And I know. But I’m waiting to see where everything goes.” His green eyes had followed Brackenfur and Sorreltail as they had returned to the Nursery. Then they were trailed by Dovewing as she exited the Medicine Cat’s Den. Even I noticed the latter. She looked like she’d seen a ghost.  
“Sorreltail and Foxleap,” Firestar murmured to me. I looked up from my sitting position, my paws still tucked close to my body. “What?” The ginger tom shook his head. “Just keep those names in mind. None of this is over so easily. We’re going to need to contact the other clans, sooner or later. We cannot be the only one who this is happening to.”  
I shivered. That thought unnerved me, even though I was a product of it. Once again, I half closed my eyes, trying to not be drawn back to the memories of the last couple of days. I was me. That was all that mattered, right? I was not what had been done to me.  
Yet I still looked at my paws as if they weren’t my own.  
“You should get something to eat,” Firestar prompted once again. I shook my head. He’d asked before, but my answer was the same. I didn’t want to get up. I couldn’t make the same efforts as Hollyleaf.   
As it was, I knew the only reason Firestar wasn’t out there was because of me. I pulled my paws in closer to me. I was acting like a mewling kit who couldn’t understand why the world was a certain way. I was holding my friend and clanmate back, and that made me feel guilty, but there was nothing I could do about that.  
The coarse feeling of a tongue brushed over my flank. “Everything will be alright,” murmured Firestar. Would it really? Would the cats around me ever stop looking at me like I was a freak? I didn’t think so.   
The prophesy said we’d only return to StarClan if it was the end of the world, didn’t it? What sort of curse was that? Why were we being punished? And what did ‘StarClan falling’ mean?  
I just turned my head, trying to shut out the rest if the world and what it had to say to me.


	11. Hollyleaf

Squirrelflight did send me on a patrol, but the cats I was paired with didn’t seemed too pleased with it. I’m pretty sure that the deputy just paired me with them because they had been hanging out around camp like gossiping birds.  
Cherrypaw, Cinderheart, Lionblaze, and Spiderleg. It was an odd ensemble of cats that I liked and cats that could probably care less about my existence. I could feel Spiderleg’s gaze on the back of my neck. I had a feeling he would have taken charge of this patrol had he been unwilling to allow me to be at his back. As if I would attack him.  
The feeling in my chest was a cross between frustration, annoyance, and sorrow. Lionblaze at least seemed to be taking this seriously and scenting the air. Finally, we were sending out a border patrol. That didn’t mean we hadn’t also been tasked with hunting. Cherrypaw’s mentor, Foxleap, was still in the medicine cat’s den, though when I asked on the way past Leafpool assured me he was fine. I didn’t trust the look in my brother’s blind eyes from over her shoulder however. It was … awkward facing my mother. Expecting to die I had forgiven her for everything that had happened and what she had done. Now I had to face that as a living, breathing, functioning cat. Looking at her eyes that still loved me and feeling my skin crawl just a little on how unusual that was.  
Either way, we were out in the forest now, walking between the trees and picking our way over the many leaf splattered roots of trees. The air was crisp and felt nice, being out of the stuffy camp (even with Spiderleg) made things feel better.  
I turned my head to the left, then the right. Heading for the ShadowClan border, I reminded myself, was something I needed to pay attention to. It needed to keep my wits and not enjoy the freedom of being out here after so recently going out alone.  
Spiderleg finally did take the lead, which I was almost grateful for, since it removed his eyes from my back. Each step was bounding and when we reached the scent line he paused.  
“Both are stale,” he informed us, not looking at me and instead looking at Lionblaze. The golden tom frown at the border than looked out at the dark pine trees over the expanse of clearing. He seemed to look blank for a second and I wondered what he was thinking. Then he said, “Think we should check on them?” Spiderleg looked sharply at him, then back at the boundary. His gaze seemed to soften a bit. We’d all expected this. We needed to figure out what was – if it was – happening in another clan. “Come on,” said the tom, stepping over the line. Cherrypaw followed with hesitation and then came me, Cinderheart and Lionblaze. We slowly made our way deeper into ShadowClan territory to see if anything would turn up. Hopefully everything was alright. I didn’t kid myself long with that hope.  
The forest was very quiet, and the cast of deep shadows reminded me why this place was the territory of the cats that loved it. It seemed realistic that they were looking in the dark. I couldn’t see them, scent them, or hear them, so equally realistically I was imagining monsters. It did recall the Dark Forest, still so fresh in all our heads. Evidence of fighting was still everywhere. There was nothing that we could do about that but huddle close. Enemies in enemy territory, even though we’d fought for each other only days ago. This business with the dead returning had shattered whatever comradery we felt for each other.   
We knew the way to the camp at least.   
And that’s when we heard the fighting. Yowls of annoyance more than anger or fear. We, even Spiderleg, looked at each other. For a second, we were united again, I could feel it, and then we broke apart again as we all rushed forward, toward the entrance, out of curiosity more than anything.   
The entrance was unguarded and as I stuck my head through I couldn’t help wincing. The damage was worse here than it was in our camp. A couple of days hadn’t changed anything. And in the center of the camp, in plain view, four cats were making a very good attempt to hold down another.  
Redwillow … We all recognized him. Lionblaze’s mouth opened a little in surprise and both of us slowly walked forward. A couple of cats, tense and at the edges of the dens and in the shadows of trees looked at us. I wondered why their eyes looked so … disinterested with the fight going on in the center of camp. There was still the similar shock there and they bristled a bit at the ThunderClan intrusion, but no one tried to attack us.  
One cat broke away from the rolling mass of cats and shook off some blood on his ear as he walked over. If I thought that ThunderClan was bad, then seeing Blackstar’s eyes was like seeing insanity. He wasn’t crazy, but the edge had been taken off his logic, you could tell. I tensed up and beside me I could feel Cherrypaw do the same.  
“Come to help?” he asked, a slight gravelly tone to his voice.  
“What’s happening here?” Spiderleg asked, gapping. Another couple cats had come forward, once again trying to hold Redwillow down. Redwillow looked worse than Blackstar and seemed to be completely uncaring that other cats were hurting him, even if just by accident.  
“What does it look like?” asked Blackstar, tilting his head back. “You ThunderClan cats can’t have escaped it. We know you lost cats.” His eyes didn’t drift to me. Maybe he didn’t know? Maybe he didn’t care … Surely the lack of wounds on me had to at least be a little telling.  
I sniffed, putting two and two together much faster than Spiderleg. “Thank you. For keeping him here. It must be hard, if he keeps coming back even if you kill him.” And that got more attention than just Blackstar. The whole patrol and a couple ShadowClan warriors looked at me. I tried not to feel nervous, or worse, enjoy the attention.  
“How many lives have you lost?” I asked Blackstar.   
He answered in the same tone. “Six. And he’s killed several warriors and an apprentice. Not like that lasted long.” He did look awful. “Did ThunderClan have some news it wished to share? Or was this just a friendly visit?” It was hard to imagine such a reaction from a cat. He just seemed to be thinking in seconds, not panicking like I expected. Was he stronger than I gave him credit for or just very good at acting?  
“StarClan,” I prompted. “Has Littlecloud heard anything from them?”  
This time a different voice chimed in and I tuned in the old medicine cat. “No … they’re as silent as the grave. I went to the Moonpool the first night.” Jayfeather must have missed him. “And nothing. Complete blackness.” It could tell this unnerved every cat here, including our own patrol. Keeping my voice controlled, I said, “Our medicine cat has gotten word.” And I rattled off the prophecy word for word. The reactions were like ThunderClan, but Blackstar dismissed the muttering with a twitch of his tail.  
One thing about ShadowClan surprised me. There was no division. I couldn’t tell just by looking who had died and who had not. Maybe having a common enemy that was being contained as best as possible in camp was what had kept them together. Then again, maybe not. I didn’t know. I wasn’t of ShadowClan.  
“Is that all?” asked Blackstar. His eyes had narrowed, and he seemed to be looking at Lionblaze. Whose eyes were fixed on the ‘fight’ with Redwillow like he wasn’t sure what he was seeing. “Or has ThunderClan gotten its fill of being the center of attention?”  
I shivered and dipped my head respectively to the ShadowClan leader. There really wasn’t more we could do. “Thank you, Blackstar.”  
And we left. Things weren’t normal. They’d never been normal. Not since that night.  
ThunderClan was divided so many times that it was impossible to tell the difference between clanmates and strangers. ShadowClan was presumably still united, but half of them looked like they were on the brink of logic and insanity. More of them had probably died and returned more than the number of cats that had died in the Dark Forest’s war of shadows. All to keep a traitor from getting out, while the traitor was daring enough to risk getting out. Because what was the worst that could happen? He’d already died and learned it wasn’t permanent.  
StarClan was gone, silent to all but Jayfeather. And I didn’t know why. My brain couldn’t figure it out. We weren’t anywhere near normal. Things were just going to get worse.


	12. Lionblaze

I was going mad. That must be it. I was going mad. Because back there I had been sure I was seeing five cats fighting. A she-cat, her eyes scarred and bloodied but still fighting like a manic. And what I’d saw …  
Back at the border, I remembered the battle there. When I had killed Russetfur.  
The worse part was I was sure that cat had been Russetfur. Her fur was the same color, even when it was covered in scratch marks. And then she’d broken away from the mass of bodies, licking her wet muzzle, and her head had turned in my direction. Those blood – no – those red eyes had looked at me and she’d seemed amused. For a second, however, she’d … flickered. Like I was just dreaming, imagining her. Then she was solid again and frowning and it was as if the idea had been planted in my head.  
War only lasts if there is something worth fighting for. These cats fight because they still fear death. Redwillow fights because they fight. When you remove death, then slowly the need for war fades as well.  
I had to shake that off as we exited ShadowClan territory. As soon as we entered our own territory we attempted to hunt on the way back, but I couldn’t focus. As it was, I ran into some brambles, scratching up my legs. Looking down at the tiny scratches I knew for sure the world was very wrong.  
I didn’t heal. It was like when my powers had first been developing. When it had started out, I could only be hurt by everyday objects and limited injuries in battle. Then slowly I had become stronger, and stronger. Now, looking down at the scrapes the plants had caused all I could think was that I must be broken. The world was so messed up right now and I couldn’t keep my sanity any more than Blackstar could.  
It was Hollyleaf who came over to me, pressing her fur into mine. She said nothing, but the comfort that she offered was almost natural now. I could almost let those secondary thoughts of my doubt in her go.  
Almost.  
We entered camp again, Spiderleg with a mouse and Cinderheart with a scrawny bird. All in all, it was pitiful. We set them on the fresh kill pile and I was surprised to see Hollyleaf’s bird still there as well. It was getting colder and the pile was growing smaller and smaller. But she’d caught a pretty good-sized bird. Yet, as Spiderleg set his mouse down it was at once picked up in passing by one of the kits, who dragged it over to Sorreltail, who looked pleased with her kit but still shot Hollyleaf a look that I couldn’t place. All the prey was being taken before her own. Cinderheart’s tail rested on her shoulder for a second, joining mine, but Hollyleaf shrugged them off. “It’s fine,” she murmured. “I knew that would happen. They’ll eat it when they’re hungry. I honestly can’t expect them to not be like this.”  
But I could. I could expect myself to not be like this and the guilt crawled around in my insides. Why did I have to be distrustful like this? It wasn’t fair.  
We all scattered then. Spiderleg to report his findings, stubbornly, to Bramble …. Brambleclaw. I sighed. I … was just done. I needed help and someone to talk to. Carefully I picked my way to the medicine cat’s den, sticking my head in and asking, “Jayfeather? Are you free?” I could still see Birchfall by the entrance, but the nest that used to carry Foxleap (which had only just been visible from the entrance) was empty. I blinked, surprised. Had he been moved?   
Jayfeather pushed his way out of the back, his blind eyes looked tired. It was getting late in the evening, but he still looked like he’d only just woken up. “What is it, Lionblaze?”  
I shook out my fur, trying not to look embarrassed. “I just wanted to talk with you. You and maybe Dovewing.” It seemed odd that he needed to ask. He always seemed to know what I’d wanted before now. I felt that distrustful feeling crawling up my legs and I shook a paw to get rid of the sensation.  
“Fine,” said Jayfeather after a second. He walked past Birchfall and I saw him walk with more care than I ever expected from him before. Like he was afraid of falling.   
He stopped inches away from me and I hurriedly backed up, letting him out. “Should we invite Ivypool and Hollyleaf?” he asked. I opened my mouth, hating how the word was still hesitant. “Sure.”  
Dovewing wasn’t that hard to pick out. She was outside the warriors’ den. Hollyleaf was back in isolation, though I was glad to notice that Cinderheart wasn’t ostracizing her. She was chatting with her, but when seeing Jayfeather approach she got up, dipping her head and dismissing herself. I got Dovewing, spinning excuses in my head about why I hadn’t gone with Jayfeather to get Hollyleaf.  
“Where’s your sister?” I asked Dovewing. She jumped a little, like she hadn’t realized I was coming up. Then she shook her head forlornly. “I – I’m not sure.” She glanced around, then said, “Maybe with the Elders?”  
We both got up and I tried not to dwell too much on the fact that she still seemed shell-shocked by all that had happened. We headed for the Elders’ den and I stuck my head in. Mousefur blinked at me, her eyes narrowed. Purdy was there as well, like he was standing guard, and looked at me with the same suspicion. Ivypool was indeed there and she turned her head around. “Oh, hello Lionblaze,” she said. She looked back, dipping her head to the two Elders. “Would you excuse me?” Mousefur just flicked her tail, but Ivypool took this as permission to leave anyway.  
She pushed past me, dipping her head at her sister, then looked a bit excited. “Meeting?” I nodded.  
We were too big and too large of a group to talk in camp anymore. So, we headed out into the forest, knowing Jayfeather and Hollyleaf would catch up. We were such a motley crew, I thought. Three cats with powers (what was wrong with them?), one ex-Dark Forest trainee, and a cat who used to be dead. It wasn’t anything anyone would have imagined.  
Jayfeather led the way, though once again I noticed he seemed to be having trouble moving around the forest. It was when we were above the camp that he said, “What was it you wanted us for, Lionblaze?” I could still tell he was very, very tired and I shuffled my feet, feeling awkward about the fact I dragged him away from camp to voice my worries. But the scratches on my legs still hurt and I needed to say it. “You know what’s happened to all our powers, don’t you?”  
I looked at him, waiting for a reaction. The lack of one seemed to prove my point. He said nothing for a point, then dipped his head. He didn’t need to look up or at the others. They were all silent. Hanging onto his every word.  
“When I went to the Moonpool StarClan wasn’t there,” he said slowly. I looked up, at those words. At the sky. There was still a splattering of stars coming into the sky and that made me relax. Yet Jayfeather didn’t stop talking.  
“Someone else was there. Another cat that I couldn’t see. I couldn’t see anything.” That might not have been a novelty to another blind cat, but Jayfeather had always seen in his dreams.   
“What did you _hear_?” asked Hollyleaf. She was tense. This, I realized, meant a lot to her. She related to this, far better than any of us three – Dovewing, Jayfeather, or myself – were.   
Jayfeather described what had happened at the Moonpool. Every detail, he said, that he could remember. It made no sense to me. How our powers could be connected to a cat that was above StarClan and the Dark Forest. Nothing was above them. They answered to no one. We thought we had all the answers. That our powers had been meant to come together because of Rock and Midnight and the ancient cats of the Tribe and so many others. Yet this cat was telling us something completely different.  
“Don’t trust him,” Ivypool cut in. I blinked, looking at her. “What?” I asked.  
“Don’t trust him,” Ivypool repeated. “Just because a cat says some things about all this doesn’t mean we should listen. Especially when they say that they’re more powerful than our ancestors.”  
I swallowed. I didn’t think any of us had been planning to trust this mysterious cat that Jayfeather had heard from. But I still had to say something else. “But they know something. We don’t.” Ivypool, I knew, couldn’t argue with that. None of us could.


	13. Cloudtail

Having my beliefs shattered is surprisingly very easy to recover from.  
Or so I kept telling myself. It was always hard to believe in StarClan. I’d tried, of course. But I could never look up at the stars and see anything other than distant lights. Like twoleg nest lights from far away. There was no place where your soul went to when there was nothing above and nothing to go there. It was always illogical.   
But it seemed like there was no place in this world for those who did not believe in that line of thinking.  
It had been five sunrises since Firestar, the closest thing I had to a father, had opened his eyes and shaken off the scent of death. It had been five sunrises since he had been killed by shadows from the dark. I cannot believe in the return of the dead. Yet it is shown to me and it’s so hard to deny it.  
So, I walked around camp like things were normal. That maybe the fight against the Dark Forest had never happened. And maybe it hadn’t. Five days was enough time that others slowly started to fall back into a wary routine. Border patrols were almost nonexistent, apart from the nagging thought that Redwillow or another traitor would get out of the trap they’d been born back into. This didn’t happen, however, and we kept the fresh kill pile safely piled high as much as we could with each passing day growing crisper.  
I was careful to be polite to everyone. Hollyleaf and Ferncloud and Mousefur alike. But I couldn’t approach Firestar. We – the clan – could ignore the broken parts that all this had brought into our camp. For a little longer, I thought we were all hoping. Let us pretend for a little longer. I doubt I was the only one who noticed that Foxleap still hadn’t been seen despite assurances that he was alright and extra prey being brought into the medicine cat den. Or the way that Sorreltail had not a mark on her fur from the battle and spent as much time away from the Nursery as possible. But we all pretended. Hoping that we were wrong.  
Each night we checked the sky, expecting to see more falling stars. Yet so far there were none. I can say that I was lulled into a false sense that everything had stopped. That everything was alright now. This would, I think, be all that happened. Some mystical occurrence had proven StarClan real while it granted my clanmates life again. But I couldn’t see this as a gift with such a distasteful prophecy hovering over our heads.   
Getting out of camp to clear my head on the morning of the fifth day was bliss. I shook out my fur, walking toward Squirrelflight who assigned me to a patrol with Hazeltail and Toadstep. We both walked out, heading for the WindClan border without fear of running into anyone. The borders, as we found, were still being marked. But it was just as scattered as our own attempts. I wondered how they were doing.  
The forest opened a little, showing us the river and the expanse of moor. It was a beautiful sight, currently of the morning breaking into the world. Cold, but beautiful. Hazeltail didn’t share my sentiment as she shivered. “Burrrrr. Can’t we hurry up and get back to the warm dens?” Toadstep chuckled but got on with marking the border.  
I kept a lazy look out for patrols, but my prediction that only use would be out proved true. No one turned up. On the way back to camp, we started to hunt. Pleased with myself, I scented a squirrel near a gorse bush. In my mind I had foolishly already caught it. An apprentice’s mistake. As I stalked forward my paw landed on a dry leave, crunching it. The squirrel’s head shot up and as soon as it saw me it was off and running. Growling under my breath I pelted after it. Toadstep joined my heels, running to the side and cutting of the prey’s escapes. I couldn’t thank him as I sucked in gasping breath, pouncing, claws digging into the creature. After delivering the killing bit I was too busy catching what was left of the escaped air to notice my clanmate’s pelt spike. When I did I raised my head, looking around. Wary.  
The forest was strangely quiet. My mouth was still full of the smell of squirrel, but I opened it anyway, trying to catch the scent on the wind. I expected dog. Or badger or even fox. But there was none. In fact, it took a lot longer than it should have for me to pick up the cat scent.  
Which was all around us. Growing stronger by the second. I turned my head, trying to pick out the origin. But it seemed to cling to my pelt and the freshly killed prey’s. Toadstep took in a sharp breath and so did I after a second. There was a low whining in my ears. Hazeltail came bounding up, looking bright, a starling in her jaws. Her expression fell as she realized something was wrong. Her prey was dropped next to mine and her fur spiked up. Ears swiveled. The cat scent was now almost strong enough that I was surprised I didn’t see an actual cat yet.  
“Show yourself!” called Hazeltail, tail held high and haunches raised.  
Nothing. The whining continued and then slowly it died to a soft hiss. Then it was gone. The scent, too, faded until it was nothing. Until I couldn’t sense that there had ever been a sign a cat was nearby – here – at all. Toadstep looked like he’d seen a ghost. And I couldn’t blame him. My own fur was on end and Hazeltail didn’t seem much better.  
“What was that?” she asked, looking around and up at the trees. I shook my head. I couldn’t begin to guess.  
Looking down again I picked up our prey. It felt scrawny against my mouth, but I held it with care. This was needed for our clanmates more than some ghost, I thought practically. We had enough, living, ghosts. That was all I was going to allow myself to address at this point.  
Behind me, Hazeltail coughed several times. Toadstep shook himself out of whatever reverie he’d been in and looked at her. “Starling feather got you down?”  
She nodded several times, but I noticed her eyes were a bit watery. “Come one,” I said, voice muffled. “Back to camp. Better things to do than wonder about phantoms.”  
It disturbed me that, as we were walking back to camp, I was the only one who had noticed that there had still been a lingering smell, so faint I might have imagined it, on the prey.


	14. Foxleap

I wanted out of this den. My face twisted as Leafpool once again came forward, examining me and checking to see that my supposed injuries hadn’t magically reappeared.  
Well … I knew I had injures. I remembered getting them. Remembered the sting of claws and scrape of teeth. I remembered the pain and haziness of fading in and out of consciousness. Other than that, … nothing. Why should I remember more?  
Yet Jayfeather and Leafpool seem content to keep me confined to the medicine cat den without visitors when I am perfectly fine. Like they thought they were kidding someone. Like the whole camp couldn’t guess what happened. Like I hadn’t been told.  
My fur keeps spiking up every time I thought about it. I just knew I’m was going crazy. If I had to stay here for much longer I really will.  
My reprieve came late in the evening, after the patrols had come in. News of the strange patrol Cloudtail had led had already filtered in to me, only because the camp thinks Jayfeather should know. If he’s was so special, why couldn’t he explain what was happening? If he’s so special, why hasn’t he been able to dream his way into StarClan all this time? I’d watched him. Watched him try. This cramped little den entertained that much of my curiosity at least.  
Finally, I did get a visitor. His pelt was ginger and eyes green and he stepped into the den with a dip of his head to Leafpool. I could see her eyes, wide and amazed but trying to swallow it all down to appear normal. Jayfeather was out somewhere. I didn’t ask. He didn’t seem to stay here longer than he had to. Better things to do than entertain me and Brairlight, I guess.  
I looked at Firestar not as if I was seeing a ghost, though it was hard not to, but with a sort of relief. “Firestar,” I said, shoulders relaxing. “They won’t let me out, you know?” I couldn’t keep the whine out of my voice. It seemed so unfair that he could walk around like normal and I was in here.  
The leader’s ear twitched and for the first time in a while I could tell he was nervous. That tied my stomach up in knots. “I think they probably want you to avoid the conversations out there,” he reasoned. “Once things calm down maybe it will be better.” My ears tilted back, and my hackles rose. “What conversations? I’ve been in here five sunrises and I can’t stand being in here for another.” I forced my voice to be even and my ears back into their normal position. “Sorry.”  
Firestar looked unphased. “I get why you’re frustrated, Foxleap. If you want out, then I can ask. But as it is tensions are rising and I’m not sure …” he drifted off, eyes moving to the side. “Things are moving in ways they have never gone before. We’re all confused and throwing harsh words around that should not be said.” Factions. I’d heard that too. Groups turning up within the clan, splintering it into little pieces. Against the cats who had come back, against the cats who trained with the Dark Forest, for them, against them, neutral, and so many variations of.  
No better than rogues, Foxleap worried. If we don’t find answers and a way to unite us soon, that might be what happens. Attempts of both ends to pull together were very real, but leadership was fractured as well, so much so that it didn’t matter if Brambleclaw was supposed to be leader or Firestar. Stand stills on that front had clearly made Squirrelflight leader just by being capable of pretending things were okay. A clan with three leaders and no deputy … unstable.  
Foxleap looked at his paws. “If there are things outside this den that the medicine cats are trying to protect me from than I’d much rather be out there where I can change things than in here. In here I can do nothing.”  
Firestar took a breath in and then nodded. “I thought that might be the case.” He took a step back, then turned and went to go talk to Leafpool in a low voice. I got the gist of it anyway.  
Exiting the medicine cat den for the first time I’d been confined there was not something that was easy. I kept my head down, watching reactions out of the corner of my eyes. There wasn’t much shock, at least not from the fact that I was completely unharmed … no, more so I thought it was shock because I had come out at all. I walked around camp, getting used to my legs. Working, uninjured legs. My ears were working perfectly fine too. As I passed the Warrior’s den, I heard Spiderleg say from the entrance, “Pretty soon we might all be freaks.”  
I had to stop and dig my claws into the tough earth. This wasn’t going to be easy. It was _never_ going to be easy.


	15. Dovewing

I’d never been this deaf before. I couldn’t pretend to know what it was like, but I thought that it was beyond unfair that my life – that I had lived with longer than without – now only extended as far as a few feet. The cost for my powers, the fact I never was surprised, seemed worth it now that it was gone.  
It was the dead of night, dark and quiet around me. Cats asleep in their dens and the forest quiet of all but night noises. Tranquil was a word I might have used. My eyes were closed, so as not to see the distant view of falling stars. I tried to pretend that I couldn’t see them in my head.  
“Why is this happening?” I murmured. “Before I pushed and pushed until I could see into StarClan itself and now I can hardly hear the crickets.” I shivered against the chill of the season, though it still bit at me. There would be snow soon, you could bet on it. Nothing really out of the ordinary, but with cats not dying than I wondered how many leaf-bares they could actually last. Food would run out sooner or later. Unless they just wanted to starve to death over and over …  
Could they do that? How did this ‘death thing’ work anyway? It was clear it was still happening, even though no one else other than Foxleap had come back. What was this new world? What was possible?  
It was the scream that caused me to blink open my eyes. I pulled in a sharp breath, eyes flying open and fur spiking. I stood, trying to locate where the cry had come from. My breath hitched in my throat as I realized it had come from the entrance. With shaky paws, I got to my feet and rushed toward the entrance. It would take too long for the rest of the camp to respond and Millie was on guard duty. I darted through the entrance, expecting badgers or foxes or even attacked WindClan cats. Instead I just stumbled to a halt as I was greeted by Millie and two other cats. Just two. My claws were still unsheathed, because I had expected that they were attacking her, but instead it was … all rather peaceful.  
And I recognized one of them. Which explained Millie’s exclamation.  
“L-Longtail?” I stuttered, recognizing the Elder I had only known as an apprentice. My eyes widened and when he looked to me his face gained a smile that broadened at my surprised. “Didn’t expect me, I take it,” he said. He almost sounded tired.  
In my shock I’d almost completely ignored the new cat. He was hardly noticeable in this darkness and he was looking at Millie with ice blue eyes that caused me to shiver. They reminded me of Hawkfrost’s. His pelt was pitch black, apart from his tail tip, which was a white even deeper than Cloudtail’s fur. It was unnatural to me, but I couldn’t really comment. Things were strange enough. Longtail looked over at him as my attention shifted. “Ah … er … this is someone else.” The cat finally looked over at me and for a second, I thought I saw a spark of recognition in those eyes. Like he knew who I was even though I’d never seen him once in my life. “My companion,” the black cat said, voice deeper than I expected from such a thin frame. “Is very good with words.” He almost seemed amused, if a distant look of confusion and hurt also seem to tinge his eyes. “I seem to have …” his tail flicked. “Lost something of myself. May I come in? To … see your leaders?” He was still looking at me like I was a lot more interesting than I thought I was.  
“No,” I said after a second, keeping my voice firm. I didn’t like this cat for some reason. He put me on edge with his calm in the chaos demeanor. Taking him anywhere or even letting him stay around seemed liked a bad idea.  
Longtail, however, looked at me again. And for one stiff second … I realized … _looked_. My head whipped around, and I looked into Longtail’s perfectly whole, unscarred eyes. He could see. He could see me. I tried not to be surprised at that.  
“I think,” Longtail said. “That we should let him talk to Firestar.” I blinked, wondering if I should correct him and then thought better of it. This black cat had said ‘leaders’ in the plural. Like he knew. Or maybe the situation in other clans was similar? Maybe more cats had come back. Maybe this was lengthier than I thought.  
With a sharp glance at the black cat, a swipe of my tail, I said, “Come on Millie. Let’s escort our guests into camp.” I hadn’t meant to include Longtail in that statement. Like he wouldn’t be staying. But still … the point was I wanted to make it clear that this black cat with his white tail tip weren’t welcome. Or maybe I was just showing him how much he unnerved me.  
But I walked back into camp, where cats were already sticking their heads out of their dens. Graystripe, Millie’s mate, stopped his progress toward the entrance, eyes widening when first they landed on Longtail and then the strange black cat. “What?” he asked, one paw raised. His fur spiked along the stripe over his back. My whiskers twitched as I looked around, eyes going to each face. “Brambleclaw!” I called out. “Firestar!” and then I looked around again, finally saying, “Squirrelflight!”  
The black cat came to stand beside me then, uncomfortably close. But he didn’t seem to notice me. He was just a little taller than I was, so I had to tilt my head to clearly make out where his eyes were looking.  
Cats had all come out of their dens, all of them. His eyes flickered around. Hazeltail, Foxleap, Sorreltail, Mousefur, Ferncloud, Hollyleaf, and finally Firestar. I shivered a little. Apart from Hazeltail, his eyes had gone right over everyone in camp who’d come back. He’d only looked at me with the same intensity, when we were outside camp. Cats were whispering again, Cloudtail glancing at Brightheart and Dustpelt sticking to Ferncloud like a bur. I wasn’t sure that they were as wary of this cat as I was or merely curious. And I didn’t like that. I wanted to shout to the assembly that this cat was _off_.   
But, chimed in my inner thoughts. What isn’t off these days?  
It was Firestar who stepped forward, though Brambleclaw stayed close to his tail, Squirrelflight right beside him. The ginger tom’s amber eyes raked over the other tom. I wasn’t too sure what I expected him to notice. Maybe to see the ‘odd’ about him. That his fur was too black and his tail-tip too white. That his whole manner was too cool and that his eyes matched. Fake. That was it. Fake.  
But Firestar seemed to see nothing wrong with the whole picture and instead asked, “You wanted to speak to me – us – I assume?” The back tom dipped his head downward, a nod of agreement. “Yes, I did. I came back with Longtail to see that things were alright.” For some reason, his deep voice hitched at the name ‘Longtail’. Like it was catching in his throat. I tried to side-eye him again, to get a read off him. But I couldn’t see his eyes and that seemed to be the only part of him capable of emotions.   
“You have a problem in this camp,” he noted, after a second. “Cats coming back from the dead?” Dustpelt, in the background, bristled. I could see Brackenfur do the same, pressing himself to Sorreltail and wrapping his tail around his kits. They clearly didn’t think this was a problem at all.  
Firestar seemed a bit surprised. “I wasn’t aware that this was getting so far as rogues and loners.” There was almost a question mark at the end of his words. He wasn’t sure those monikers fit this black cat. But from the nod, he seemed to admit that he was a rogue or a loner. “I’m what your clan would call a loner,” he said, verbally confirming in that deep voice of his. “And, of course, they know. Do you really think your group is the only one effected by this? The rogues and loners are coming back as well.” The whispering rose to a roar, speculations flying over my head. Was this cat one of the returned loners? Wasn’t StarClan falling something to do with all this? Wasn’t the Dark Forest? What was the connection that _loners and rogues_ had to our Warrior ancestors?  
All of this only caused the black tom to tilt his head back and forth, as if he was trying to let his ears catch all the flying words. But he didn’t say anything until Squirrelflight started calming the surrounding area. Then he looked back at Firestar and said again, “So I came here.”  
Firestar’s whiskers twitched, seeming too calm like before. “Why here, if this is happening everywhere?”  
The black cat tipped his head, as if this should be obvious. But while his head was tipped I got another look at his eyes. There it was again. That underlying pain … and confusion. “Because I … because I was told in my dreams to come here.” I wasn’t sure if he was lying, but I could almost tell that it wasn’t everything. That he was leaving things out. But once again, Firestar didn’t seem to pick up on this. And I wanted to scream because no one was _seeing_ him. Not what he was doing. Not a single part.   
“By StarClan?” asked Brambleclaw, looking like he wasn’t sure. The black tom shrugged after a lengthy pause. “I’m … not sure. Is there a way to tell?”  
Even my eyes were drawn to Jayfeather, who stiffened. “Jayfeather,” Squirrelflight asked. “Could you find out?”  
I was waiting for Jayfeather to say no. That he hadn’t been able to contact StarClan with his powers gone. But we hadn’t told them yet. So, the only thing the blind medicine cat could say was, “I … can see.” The black tom nodded once, asking Brambleclaw, “Would it be alright if I stayed here until he gets confirmation?” He seemed very confident that Jayfeather would.  
Our leaders just looked hesitant. Finally, Squirrelflight tipped her head at the Elder’s den. “You can … stay in there.” Mousefur bristled a little, but I didn’t see her make any more protests. The black tom dipped his head, turning away, or starting to at least.  
“Wait,” said Brambleclaw. “What’s your name?” I saw his eyes flicker around the camp, fixing on a thousand different points. He finally looked back and said, “Of course … My name is Bane.” I wasn’t sure where he’d pulled that word. I just knew from his frantically darting eyes that it wasn’t his real name.  
“I’m Bane,” he repeated, then turned away, walking toward the Elder’s den.


	16. Jayfeather

I had promised something so big, in the late night, and I wasn’t sure if I could fulfill what I had said to Bane. To me, he looked like the usual rogue. A bit nervous and unsure what to do in this number of cats. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear each shift in his movement. I wondered what exactly his dream had revealed to him. I was at least pretty sure that there had been a dream, but I couldn’t be sure that he’d tell me the details if I asked. That was the problem with being unable to look into his mind. I couldn’t see what he was thinking or what was within his heart. I had to rely on my own judgement.  
It was still late, so many cats went back to their dens. I too walked back. With the remainder of the night maybe I could try and walk into StarClan again. But it had been hard for me to dream lately either. I knew what sight was like. I knew the color of green and crisp growing leaves. I knew the light of the moon. Yet now I couldn’t see them within my dreams. Sometimes I saw flashes, of trees and bushes, in sharp black and white, but it was like I was looking through a scattering of raindrops. It was so unclear that I wouldn’t be able to properly tell what I was looking at. Where my powers still there, but sleeping as the cat at the Moonpool had said? Or was my mind simply lapsing back into the state of mind any normal blind cat would have taken?  
_He sees so much more than anyone else, _said the voice of a past cat in my head, a memory of my title._ Even if it isn’t with his eyes._ And, well, that wasn’t true this time. This time I was so far in the dark I didn’t think I’d ever be getting out.  
My mother, Leafpool, walked back into the den behind me, taking her nest. I returned to my own, curling into a ball and doubting sleep would come. Too much was happening, and I felt so helpless. That frustrated me deeply and I could feel the fur on my scruff spiking. But I was also weary and the stranger’s confidence that this time I’d be able to dream was the only thing that allowed me to close my eyes. I slowly breathed in, then out, heartbeat slowing and thoughts becoming less and less jointed until I was repeating them.   
Surely this time …  
It was like I was floating in water, though once again I couldn’t see. I couldn’t tell which way was up. Whether I was floating on my back, face above the water, or below it. And because I didn’t know I felt myself tipping to the side. Felt myself grow panicked and my mind tricking me into believing I couldn’t pull in air.  
“Just,” said the raspy voice in my ear. “Dream yourself into something which does not need to breath then.” _The_ voice. The one that sounded like it was sick. That it might cough up a lung at any second. And always uncomfortably close to my ear. This time, at least, the voice seemed clearer. Not fading away like it had when I had been about to wake up by the Moonpool.  
And the idea wasn’t ridiculous. I’d dreamed I was flying before. Why couldn’t I dream myself into something that didn’t need to breath air.  
The thought seemed to do the trick and I pulled in air.  
“D-don’t think I’m going to thank you for that,” I said, catching my breath. “I know this is just a dream and that I can’t be hurt here.”  
“Can’t you?” asked the voice. “I seem to remember that the Dark Forest trained living cats in their dreams. And the injuries they got passed on to the waking world. No … no, you could lose everything here, Jayfeather. If you are searching for me, I am always in a danger – _cough!_ – dangerous place. All my siblings are right now.”  
“You aren’t StarClan,” I said, aware I was repeating myself. “Bane said that StarClan sent him a dream. So, unless you have something useful to say …”  
There was a dry chuckle. Or maybe it was just another cough. “Bane? Oh, yes, Bane. I’m surprised he didn’t look up at the night sky and name himself that. He once named himself after a door, but I doubt you’d even know what that was. No, no, Bane is far too perfect for him. But you mention him and a dream?” There was a rasp, an intake of breath. “He tells the truth. He probably did dream of StarClan, though what within that dream was important or if any of it was more than to get himself within your clan is another matter.”  
I got a funny sensation along my spine. So, Bane couldn’t be trusted.  
“Oh, I never said that,” said the sick voice. “Just that he wants what he wants. In fact, you’d do well to trust him, since his wants match with yours.”  
I finally worked out something to say. “Who _are_ you?”  
There were several hacking coughs, sounding in my ear. “Who’s always around a medicine cat, hum?” The voice seemed amused. “Think about it Jayfeather. I am so close to being right next to you again. A temporary strength, I admit. I’ve never been so close to dying yet _unable to_.” None of that answered my questions and I was about to open my mouth to protest and press more when the voice changed the subject.  
“You want your powers back, don’t you?” There was the sound of spitting, but, thankfully, I was pretty sure where ever the voice was coming from it was at least not spiting in my direction.  
“Of course I do,” I hissed.   
“What would you trade for them?” asked the voice, seeming curious. Ivypool’s words jumped into my head. About not trusting this voice. The fact that it seemed to be offering a trade was one of those warning signs, it seemed to me.  
“Nah,” said the voice. “I was just curious.” There was the dry chuckle again, which reverted into coughing at the end. When it subsided it continued, “A life? Hum? Your peace of mind? Or would you trade your hectic current life where the dead return to the living just so your friend … Dove-fluffy something or other can hear again? Or perhaps you would start a war so your friend Lionmane never had to feel again. Or would you start a plague, just so you could see into the privet thoughts of others?”  
I was mortified. “No! Of course not! What do you take me for?”  
There was a weird, incomprehensible sound from the voice. After I second, I realized it was a ‘hummm’. “Pity,” it finally said. “Because if you want them back that’s exactly what you will have to do. The end of the world will have to be brought together before you will get your powers back, Jayfeather. Think on that. Until then, I suppose I should –“ there was coughing and hacking once again. “Hazeltail.”  
“What about Hazeltail?” I hissed. Talking in circles wasn’t exclusive for StarClan it would appear.  
“Just that she’ll be the next one to die. Or rather not.”  
“How do you know?” I was about ready to lung at the voice.  
“I don’t,” answered the voice. It sounded like it was moving away now, and I paddled my paws, trying to move after it. But I just started sinking deeper into the water. “I just know that ‘Bane’ was looking at her. And if anyone knows which one of my little followers is going to bite the dust, it’s him. Look after him, will you? He’s in a lot of pain right now …”  
And then the voice faded altogether in a gargle of water in my ears, cutting out one of the last remaining senses I could use.  
My eyes opened, the scent of sunlight in my nose. It was another day … and I still had no fewer questions than I had answers.


	17. Hazeltail

Another cough pulls itself out of my body, but I turn my head away. It feels like one of the bird feathers from the bird I had earlier that day had stuck in my throat.  
It’s amazing how you try to deny it at the start. Figure it’s something other than what it is. I try and try to find some reason why my head feels fogged (I’m just tired … things have been crazy. I’m just hungry, the prey pile is getting low. I need to move around, I’ve been sitting too long) or why my throat aches (I’ve been talking too much, gossiping with Berrynose. I’ve been eating too little, I need to take care of myself. I just need water).  
But really when you get to the bottom line, I already knew the really cause.  
I’m sick.  
It’s as simple as that. And it’s at just the wrong time. We’re all still recovering from our injuries and that rogue has been sleeping here for two nights now. I could blame it on stress, but I don’t think that I can lie to myself much longer.  
But what could I do? Bane had been perfectly cordial to everyone and though there were several muttered whispers about him, Firestar, Brambleclaw, and Squirrelflight had all talked to Jayfeather. We didn’t know what had happened. ‘We’ being the clan, but apparently StarClan really had confirmed that this rogue was important.  
If that was the case wasn’t the larger picture much more important than my health? I was sure it was fine. Just a small cough and nothing more. It would pass in a week if I was easy on my feet.  
Standing at the corner of camp, tongue rasping over my fur, I tried to hold in another cough. It was annoying, but my head was a bit too muddled to really figure it out. Bane’s scent wafted close again and I raised my head. He was walking past … again. I wondered if he’d heard my cough.  
Surprisingly enough, he didn’t unnerve me. Cats seemed to find all the others that returned from the dead unnerving, but Bane seemed to be different. And as my brain processed that in its current slow crawl I realized that I wasn’t that far from Ferncloud either. She was washing as well, tongue lapping at a tangle. Looking normal. And somehow, with Bane near, it was like that was okay. Like that was natural.   
Why was he around anyway? This must have been the third time he passed by this corner of camp.  
“Did you want something?” I asked, looking up at him with bleary eyes. The black tom stopped walking, paw in the air as if he still planned on continuing forward, whatever I said. Then he looked over, head cocking, those curious blue eyes roving over me. I shivered, but not finding it unpleasant. For one startled second I wondered if I liked him, but then calmed myself as I looked over my feelings on the matter.  
No. No, I didn’t think I liked the rogue. But he had a sense of complete silence about him that just made me more comfortable and still. His eyes were unusual and were attractive, but not in the way of beauty. They were not ugly either, but they seemed … unreal.  
“It wasn’t anything serious,” he said, voice as deep as usual. I knew cats with deep voices but usually they had larger frames. Not Bane. So, it always shocked me how such a slim cat could produce such a noise.  
“So, you did want something?” I checked. That was what it sounded like. He had walked past as if he had a purpose somewhere else, but then again, he’d actively looked at me each time. There was no concern within his gaze but instead a frustrated, pained look.  
“Are you okay?” I asked, noticing the pain.  
Bane seemed to find _my_ concern odd. “I am fine. It is just an internal pain I was … born with.” How that made him ‘fine’ I didn’t know. But he’d dismissed it so easily …  
“Maybe you should ask Jayfeather about it,” I pressed. By now I had completely forgotten that he’d supposedly stopped here for a reason.  
Bane seemed curious. “Small aches and pains seemed to be something to pass up. You keep coughing, yet I have not seen you check in with Jayfeather.” I paused. He made a point and his eyes flashed with deceptive humor. Had that been intended? All the way from me calling out to him to noticing the pain in his eyes?  
I looked at him with hesitation, suddenly wondering just how smart this tom was. “I shouldn’t bug him. I mean, like, you’re supposed to be important for StarClan and things. I’m not.” Bane shrugged his shoulders. “Then do not go. I will not force you. But going to him for such small pains that he can do nothing about on my part …” He cast his blue eyes to the side. “I will deal with it myself.”  
I wondered if there was supposed to be some morel to him doing this. I mean, I could understand that he cared, but I was just surprised he was using himself to teach me this. I looked down at my paws, feeling embarrassed and like a kit who didn’t know they should tell a queen about the thorn in their paw.  
After a long second I looked up, glaring at Bane in the eye. “Okay, fine. But you have to come too.” My chest was tight with what must have been fear. Though the tickle was still in my throat, so it might have been an oncoming cough as well. Bane gave me one of his small, awkward smiles and then turned, white tail tip leading me for the medicine cats’ den.  
I trailed after him, surprising another cough. The lie stopped here.  
*  
It was Jayfeather who greeted us at the entrance to his den. Maybe he’d heard us coming. His blind eyes looked straight ahead, oddly meeting Bane’s eyes. “What’s the matter?” he asked, paw pausing over a pile of pitiful low herbs. He turned to completely face me, and I felt the guilt at bugging him with this small matter rise. But Bane was at my side and if I didn’t say anything than he’d know. That was more embarrassing than Jayfeather turning me away and just telling me I had a cold.  
“I’m … I’ve been coughing a lot,” I explained, unable to keep the pause out of my voice. Jayfeather’s attention turned to me and I saw the confusion there. Not like he didn’t believe me but like he was puzzling over something else. “Come here,” he said, flicking his tail to indicate that I come closer, which I did. He pressed an ear to my chest and after a second said, “Cough.”  
I complied, but once I started, I couldn’t stop. My claws dug into the ground and my eyes closed, chest heaving.  
Jayfeather waited for me to stop and when I focused on him again he said, “You have whitecough … maybe greencough. Early stages, if the latter. I’ll be frank … if you’d kept quiet about this,” and the way those blind eyes looked at me I knew that he realized that was what I’d been planning on doing. “Then this would be a lot worse. Sit.” He waved his tail at once of the free nests. “You’re staying here. And no arguing.” The way he snapped the last part without me even having to think up an argument caused me to sink into the nest, fur spiking with worry. Jayfeather seemed to be satisfied with that and moved about his business to get herbs that would supposedly help.  
It was only a couple minutes, after I’d been forced to chew several mouthfuls of the most disgusting plants I ever tasted. Then I remembered.  
“Where’s Bane?” I asked. “He said …” He’d left. While I was having the coughing fit. I looked at where he’d been standing. He’d left without upholding his end of the deal.  
Jayfeather looked in the direction of the exit to the den, an unreadable expression on his face.  
“Yes,” he murmured. “Perhaps you should tell me everything you discussed with our rogue, Bane …”


	18. Brackenfur

The kits were not taken away, but it was a close thing. Spiderleg’s fur had spiked as soon as he’d found out. And as soon as one cat guessed everyone seemed to know.  
The treatment I had feared my mate would get was exactly what we received. I kept the kits close to me, even though I knew they could feel the distasteful reactions that our clanmates were having to their mother. Sorreltail … and Sorreltail I knew took it the hardest. She no longer would enter the Nursery now there was no act to keep up. But I think it hurt her more being outside of its walls than within them. The kits slept near me, but I refused to remove myself from Sorreltail.  
It was the night Bane had come that I recognized something. A … chance. I didn’t get the feeling, but this cat that StarClan had sent us must somehow be what would make this all right. Cats walked with him like he was a rogue. Not a rogue who had died, but just a regular outsider. They treated my mate like a rather tame fox. Something that would snap at someone at any second and should certainly not be around normal cats.  
Were we a clan or we just cats scattered into the ‘fors’ and ‘againsts’?  
Bane was that bridge. Somehow, we all felt it. The living and once dead. Longtail hung around him like he was an old friend and really all the Elders seemed to stick near him. He’d listen to their complaints and stories like there was nothing else in the world that was important. He always had that look on his face, like he was hearing something ‘new’.   
It wasn’t long before I found myself talking to him as well. Those curious blue eyes looked at me. It wasn’t ‘calming’ but he himself seemed to be calm. No movement that he didn’t have to make. No expression that wasn’t completely heartfelt.  
Three days after he entered camp I finally worked up the courage to talk to him. Foolishly enough – or later I thought it was foolish because why was that the first thing out of my mouth? – I started off with, “No one likes us anymore.”  
An ear was cocked. Bane being quizzical. “Who is ‘us’. Though I assume you are including yourself.”  
I swallowed, sitting down. Because I’d started. And I needed to talk to someone about this. Bane just seemed the right sort of cat. “All the cats that came back from the dead. We’re being rejected by the rest of the clan.”  
The quizzical ear unbent. “You are not one of the ones who returned. Why would it matter to you?”  
Parted of me wanted to get mad. Because that was a dumb question. Why wouldn’t it matter? One of them was my mate! If I was okay with one but not all than what did that make me?  
But I reminded myself that Bane didn’t think that way. Some of the older kits had joked with him yesterday. Said that he was an attacking badger and tried to tussle with him. He’d just stood there blankly, not understand what a game of pretend was. He’d asked a nearby Warrior to explain how he had become a badger. But I also knew he wasn’t dumb. He just … he just thought differently. The thought process was just very different than what I was used to. But his bluntness and ideas made sense, I’d seen it happen. Hazeltail was on example.  
So, I took in a breath and continued.  
“I care because they’re still the same cats. They aren’t any different from before.”  
“But do they feel ‘wrong’ to you?” asked Bane. His blue eyes met mine. There was still the slight confusion in them, and pain. Always there.  
I … hesitated. Yes … okay, yes, they did feel wrong.  
I apparently didn’t need to verbally answer for Bane to see it on my face. “Cats will continue to die and come back. Your ‘prophecy’ states that this will not always be the case. But it also states that they will be accepted. Though this is only assumed as long as certain conditions are met. If these conditions are met do you think all the cats who were meant to die will die again?”  
It was a horrifying thought. One I hadn’t even considered. If the ‘end of the world’ happened, what would happen to Sorreltail? The fur on my spine prickled, not sure how to answer. Bane continued anyway.  
“No one hates you or your mate. They hate the abnormality. She is simply a physical reminder of it. The hate cannot continue because hate will always die before she will. Now that death has stopped working. Wait it out, Brackenfur. Show the cats of the four clans that they need to hate the absence of death and not the cats who were victims of it.”  
I sat there, sun warming my flank while the side of the gorge protected my head and shoulders. That … that made sense, but it wasn’t an answer that could fixed the problem at once.  
Why had I expected it to be that easy?  
Bane sat next to me, as if to offer his version of comfort. Sometimes I looked over, but his ice-blue eyes were always looking straight ahead. He was calm, not calming. But he was patient. Willing to wait until I calmed _myself_ down.   
“Do you … do that on purpose?” I asked. He seemed to consider that sentence for a very long time before he said, “Do what?”  
“Tell the truth? It’s … the truth, right?”  
“Of course it is,” he said without any thought into the matter. “I am unable to lie.”  
And here he stood up, white tipped tail flicking through the air.   
He left then. Leaving me with my thoughts.  
One of which was: _If a cat says he never lies … is he lying?_


	19. Foxleap

Bane talked in his sleep.  
It was an odd experance the first night.  
I don’t think the Elders’ den had ever been this full before. Never in my short life, that was for sure. Mousefur, Purdy, Longtail … those were the expected cats, of course. But then there was all us cats that should be dead, Brackenfur, and the kits. It might have been cute was in not for the fact the little rodents woke up at odd hours of the night and wanted to pounce on all their new playmate’s tails. It was also a sad little gathering. All I could hope was that it wouldn’t get any bigger. Longtail being back was odd enough …  
The first night that Bane came it didn’t seem like he’d be expected to stay. But after the hesitation he had seemed perfectly willing to sleep outside in the growing cold. Even Mousefur had to take pity on that, especially after Purdy’s whining.  
He got the nest in the corner, where we could all keep an eye on the stranger. He curled up without complaint, me getting the second nearest nest to him.  
So that night I heard almost every one of his disjointed conversation.  
And the night after.  
And the night after that.  
He seemed incapable of being asleep without some mumbled conversation with the invisible.  
It was also driving me mildly crazy.  
The first night it was only a couple of words. “Sickness … miss you … want to go … home …”  
It was a bit sad … and completely disjointed and unconnected. The best I could assume was that someone he knew had died of some sickness. It made me wonder if rogues had their own version of StarClan. Or was it only possible for us to see our ancestors? It was sad thought and I might have dwelled on it more had the chilling thought that I was supposed to be one of those ancestors not crossed my mind.  
The next night he seemed to have a longer conversation. “War … faint … brother … gone. Sorry. My … fault. Three. Four? Doesn’t matter.” He stopped for a long time there, enough so that I fell, finally, into sleep.  
Then he had to go and pick up again, resulting in Sorreltail’s mutter of, “Shut him up.”  
“Hurts. Hurts a lot.” I raised my head, surprised to see that Bane was trembling a little. His eyes cracked open. Pain played in eyes only to fade. “Sorry,” he mumbled, then curled up again, quiet for the rest of the night.  
If anyone wanted my opinion, I don’t think he fell asleep again that night.  
The third night he just whispered one word, though even that I found creepy. “Dovewing …”  
I’d rather not know when Bane had found the young warrior a name worth remembering.  
I was hoping for another one-word night, but so far it seemed luck had been broken. This, I thought, would probably be the last night that he’d be allowed to just remain there, unwoken. We all needed sleep, no matter if the others liked him. No matter if I held some sympathy for the night he’d woken up in pain.  
With half-lidded eyes I watched his white-tipped tail flick, moving back and forth. I’d never seen a cat get to sleep faster than he did. He wasn’t exactly a peaceful one by any means. He stayed within his nest, but he was always shifting.   
Carefully, I got up, ready to shake him awake when he said something different than usual.  
“We’re dying.”  
I frowned at him, paw poking into his side. What was going on?  
“Wake up,” I hissed. “Who’s dying?”  
Bane opened his eyes almost at once and looked me straight in the eye. He real pain still swirling around in there.  
“I am …”


	20. Ivypool

In the morning a patrol was sent out for the WindClan border. In the last couple of days interactions with the other clans had been very limited. We hadn’t heard from RiverClan at all. Only a single patrol of WindClan had been spotted and even then, only choice bits of information had been exchanged.  
Mousewhisker padded after me, head down. He was muttering under his breath, but I could hear every word. “We can’t take care of our own problems, why are we checking on the other clans when we have no way that we could possibly help.”  
I knew he had a point. As if that wasn’t clear this patrol was made up of ex-Dark Forest trainees. And even that had gotten a bit of protest. They didn’t want us out of camp on patrols with ‘loyal’ cats and they didn’t want us on our own patrol. I was trying to understand, I really was, but I just wanted everything to … work out.  
Blossomfall, the last to make up our little trio, was following even further back. I had to keep slowing down the pace to allow her to keep up.  
“Even if we aren’t helping we need to find out what’s going on, Mousewhisker,” I said. Carefully, I squeezed around a busy, feeling like I wasn’t awake enough for this. “And we aren’t actively looking for anyone, we’re just checking the border. We have to … somehow … keep up with everything.”  
Finding order in chaos. It was almost impossible, but that was what chaos was, wasn’t it? It was both complete mayhem and what gave rise to order. The latter was what we were trying to do. I wondered when everything, all the mysterious reappearance of dead cats and more, would become ‘normal’. It didn’t feel like it ever would, but what more could we think?  
Mousewhisker huffed but continued to move his tail. The trees thinned out and the scent of WindClan drifted into my nose. It wrinkled a bit. Didn’t matter if they’d fought beside us or what we had done for and against each other. The scent of the moor would never be home, not as long as I lived.  
Our timing must have been good because a patrol of WindClan cats were just leaving. As we broke out of the tree they stopped, looking over. I was only sure of two of their names, but I dipped my head in greeting, Mousewhisker and Blossomfall coming to stand beside me. There were three warriors, their numbers matching ours. The one of the warriors was new to me but there was Ashfoot and Owlwhisker.  
Mousewhisker seemed to recognize the other warrior at least and dipped his head to her. “Swallowtail.”  
Ah … I look them all over again and almost felt a flash of sympathy. “So, they’ve taken to separating all the outcast,” said Owlwhisker with a sigh, giving voice to my thoughts. Mousewhisker’s fur stood on end and he looked offended. But we all knew that Owlwhisker was correct. We were hardly more accepted than those that had returned from the dead. That didn’t mean that we were united on the same front, however. I could see the distrust and disgust in the line of Mousewhisker’s back. But I ignored him.  
“Any news from WindClan?” I asked. Ashfoot looked tired, but she answered. “Still dealing with a couple of traitors.” I saw Swallowtail flinch but didn’t think much of it. I was almost surprised that all these three cats weren’t being hostile to _us_. We may both be in ‘factions’ and splinters of distrust from the clans but that didn’t mean we liked each other. Certainly, a few probably blamed us for their original death. “ThunderClan?” Owlwhisker asked.  
Blossomfall and Mousewhisker were hesitating to that left it to me to answer. “A rogue has turned up. I assume that a previous patrol has told you the prophecy Jayfeather received?” And here there was a bitter look from Swallowtail. I knew what was going through her mind. ‘ThunderClan. Special ThunderClan with its prophecy warriors. Why were they centered on?’  
And I honestly didn’t know. All I could do was wait for Ashfoot to answer.  
“Yes,” she finally said. “But what does that have to do with a rogue?” I hesitated. I wasn’t sure if I should be relaying this, but it almost seemed unfair that they didn’t know.  
“He’s supposed to help. StarClan sent him.”  
There was a long pause from all three cats and then Ashfoot nodded her head. “Very well. Thank you for the news.” She turned on her heals, all of her patrol leaving. But her parting comment had me frozen in place.  
“Maybe he can ensure that we die properly this time.”


	21. Briarlight

My paws sorted through old and dry herbs without me even having to look at them anymore. Dock, honeysuckle, burdock. All going into piles that Jayfeather and Leafpool could use. I was at the hub of news these days. With the camp abuzz with each new turn of events I looked forward to any of my clanmates’ visits, so I could hear the latest gossip. What surprised me the most today, however, was Bane being ushered into the den by Foxleap, who looked very rumbled and sleep-deprived. Since Leafpool and Jayfeather weren’t there I expertly scooted myself to the front of the den, asking, “What is it?” Foxleap look at me hesitantly. He’d been getting the distaste treatment, I see. I just smiled at him reassuringly until he finally answered. “It’s Bane. He’s talking in his sleep and …” Bane’s face looked completely blank, though by the look of how he’d entered the den I wasn’t too sure that he actually wanted to be here. I listened to Foxleap’s explanation, but after a second had to shh him.  
“Hazeltail is still here,” I pointed out, indicating the corner of the den with my ear. The she-cat’s form was over there, chest rising and following with little hitches. I was pretty sure she was asleep. “Just keep it down a bit. You said he’s been having pains?” Then I corrected myself. Bane was right here. Why not just ask him? I turned my head to look at him, blinking. “You’ve been in pain? Where?”  
Bane’s ears angled backward, but he answered after a second. “I have had pain all over my body since the moment I was … born.” He hesitated on the last word than continued with less of a pause. “I assured Foxleap that there is nothing to be done about it and apologized for keeping him awake.”  
I hesitated again. I was no medicine cat. But it couldn’t hurt to get the facts. “Does the pain keep you awake?”  
Bane thought about this. “It … does not. It contributes.” Foxleap frowned, adding to the rogue’s words. “He … might be having nightmares.” I looked at Bane, waiting to see if he had any comments on that, but he neither confirmed or denied it.  
It was hard to judge Bane. He seemed so open with his expressions as if each new feeling must be explored with every aspect of his body. But his words were so collected together that any naivety he had with his actions seemed to be made up for with how calculated he was.  
“You should probably talk to Leafpool or Jayfeather about it,” I said after another second’s thought. Bane, at least this time, did not seem pleased with this. “Jayfeather cannot help me. He could help my brother, but he is not here. Therefore, I see no reason why he should attempt to help me when it would be as useful as crying into the lake.”  
Both I and Foxleap blinked. That was the most I think I’d ever heard Bane say and certainly the closest thing to an argument. He may not have been pleased, but he also was not ‘angry’ as other cats seemed to be angry. Maybe just frustrated.   
His face held that frustrated expression for a second then he added, “Dovewing. I’d like to speak to Dovewing.”  
The expression on Foxleap’s face was both priceless and confusing. He seemed a mix of bewildered and disturbed. “W-why?” he asked. I didn’t see how Dovewing could help either or even how Bane knew her. They’d never spoken as far as I knew.  
“Because,” Bane said with a sigh. “She is one of the Three … I … wish to discuss a use of her powers.”  
I shuffled my paws. “Yeah, that still doesn’t answer the question,” Foxleap continued. “It’s, like, a complete change of subject. I heard you a couple nights ago. How exactly do you kn –“  
He was cut off by heavy coughing from the corner of the room and Hazeltail. I looked over, fur bristling. “Look,” I said in a low voice. “I really don’t care why Dovewing matters. As soon as Jayfeather gets back I’ll tell him about this … pain … and we’ll see what we can do to help.” I tried not to think about the fact that it was leaf-bare, and the herbs would grow short soon. “If you want to talk to someone between then and now then go on. But don’t disturb Hazeltail.”  
Bane was looking around the medicine cat dead as if he was searching for something. Eyes catching on shadows before they landed on Hazeltail. With a hesitating voice he said, “Yesss. Alright.” And then he turned on his heals, Foxleap almost glued to him because apparently this rogue couldn’t be trusted.  
I let out a sigh of relief. Something about Bane … no, it didn’t unnerve me. I knew it wasn’t right, but the returned-from-the-dead cats still set my teeth on edge. No, Bane was different. Bane set me on edge in a different way. It was like those ice blue eyes were looking at me and seeing how long it would take me to dry up like these old herbs.  
I did not regret that he’d been herded off to be Dovewing’s problem.


	22. Dovewing

Bane found me somewhere between the apprentice’s den and the freshkill pile. Foxleap was still trailing after him like some large, overgrown shadow. His fur was spiked and the sunlight through it seemed to turn his pelt amber. Bane, on the other paw, seemed calm and collected, as usual. I watched him, eyes warily scanning his pelt. Black fur kept close to his form. Sleek enough to be a RiverClan cat. Eyes like blue ice shards though with far more emotions. His white tail tip flicked back and forth, almost flicking Foxleap’s nose on every swing.  
I paused, looking back in the direction I’d been heading, frowning at the food. Then I looked back and resigned myself to go hungry for a little. Since leaf-bare was practically upon us I really needed to focus on the Queens and Elders first anyway. “Yes?” I asked, hesitantly looking at Foxleap to see if he was hanging around. From the fact that Bane was out front and the way he looked at me I figured it was he and not Foxleap who wanted to talk to me.  
Bane looked pointedly back at Foxleap and said, bluntly, “My intentions are not malicious, Foxleap.” The young warrior’s ears twitched backward, and he looked embarrassed. Still, he retreated to a respectable distance rather slowly.  
“What is it?” I asked again, this time angling my head to Bane to try and get an answer. He paused, a rather lengthy one, and I once again found myself thinking about a mouse I had seen on the fresh-kill pile.  
After another breath Bane asked, his deep voice now low, “Your powers to hear things others cannot. It is gone.” Not a question. A flat-out statement.  
I reeled back, fur spiking in surprise. Foxleap, who’d merely retreated out of hearing distance came several steps forward, distrust in his eyes. I shook my head at him, my tail flicking to indicate he could back off.  
I checked that our surroundings were mostly clear out of the corners of my eyes then tilted my head toward the entrance of camp. “Come on.” Foxleap didn’t seem to like that we were leaving camp, but he didn’t follow. Maybe finally he’d figured out that I could take care of myself. That would be nice.  
I carefully picked my way through the leave-covered outside and Bane went trailing silently behind me. That was rather unusual, wasn’t it? He was so quiet right up until he didn’t need to be. I couldn’t place him. He still felt different from the other cats that had returned from the dead.  
After another couple steps into the deeper part of the forest I looked back and asked, trying to keep the hostility out of my voice, “How did you know?” He glanced up from his paws, where he was watching the leaf litter and a couple beetles that were wondering along the ground at the sound of our progress. “I know because the linchpin that allowed you to have powers was removed.”  
I frowned, completely turning around and stopped walking. “The linch what now?”   
Bane hesitated, like he was trying to think of another way to explain it. “Your powers,” he said. “Were given. You know that, correct?” I slowly nodded. I had no idea how he had information that only I, Jayfeather, and Lionblaze had. Maybe StarClan really did talk to him. Or maybe he was weirder than I could sense. I elaborated after he didn’t continue, “They came from a power over that of StarClan.”  
He nodded. “Yes … and no. They … I should rather say that _you_ have a parallel that allowed you to gain abilities that might be similar to those who gave them to you.”  
I must have looked as blank and confused as I felt because he rephrased and simplified again.  
“There are beings above StarClan or that have powers that spirits of the dead can respect. Some of these beings decided that for their own interests they would allow some living cats to be their … are you aware of the word ‘medium’? I mean that these cats would be … almost the eyes and ears of these beings. They would have a close connection, perhaps one that these cats were not even aware of. In exchange for this, these cats would also share a small part of these beings’ abilities and powers. You and your … group … losing their powers is not unrelated to the dead returning to life. Do you understand?”  
It … sounded like what the cat in Jayfeather’s dream had said. Very similar. My eyes narrowed as I wondered if Bane was talking to this cat. I was with my sister in the opinion that they were not to be trusted.  
“So,” I questioned. “Your saying that … what? A being higher than StarClan gave me powers and now the dead aren’t staying dead? I think you’ll need to explain a little better than that, Bane.”  
It seemed to be frustrating the rogue that his point couldn’t be made. “The dead are not dying because the one who controls death is no longer … functional. They cannot keep the souls of the dead in their proper place and thus they are crossing over the thin line between the lands of the dead and the lands of the living. While this being is unable to do their job the powers of the others and yourself are fading. This is because this being is the … “ He wanted to use linchpin again here, I just knew it. “That is because the being was what was holding the others who gave your friends powers together. Without this being the other powerful, higher beings are weak at best. Soon they will go missing just like the being overseeing death.”  
My mouth felt dry. “What … these other beings. Who are they?” Something else was screaming at me, but I felt like if I asked it now than Bane wouldn’t answer or would walk away.  
“Illfur who was the parallel to your Jayfeather,” Bane explained. “I believe he is still trying to reach out to him, though that will last only as long as he has hold in this world. Then there is Bloodclaw, who was the parallel to Lionblaze. As far as I am aware, she is hardly holding any influence at all. The skirmishes in the other clans are … fading … as all the cats realize that it is pointless to fight.” Because, I thought, slowly piecing it together, no one is staying dead. It used to be that this was what would stop fighting, but if cats are intelligent enough then they’ll figure out that they can just keep fighting and nothing will ever come of it. So … slowly war is fading because there is no winning if neither side backs down.  
“And myself?” I asked. I met his blue eyes pointedly.  
Bane paused, but finally finished, “Soulcatcher is the parallel for Dovewing. The future, the past, faraway places are no mystery to Death. He is … completely gone.”  
I looked him dead in the eye, trying to see what was there, under the pain and confusion. “Funny,” I said, after a second. “I didn’t think you’d figured out how to lie yet.”  
Bane blinked and the thing I’d seen inside his eyes, that dark pulling sense, disappeared. He didn’t say anything to me, instead simply looking upward. I think I noticed a faint smile. A sad one, maybe even amused.  
I didn’t find it very funny at all.


	23. Thinbone

I hated Wickedheart’s territory with every fiber of my being. It was like traversing every known plane of existence at once … with your eyes closed … and possible when you’d been hit on the head and were still dizzy.  
In fact, I was pretty sure I had my eyes closed through most of it.  
Wickedheart didn’t have much of a home. He drifted around, and I honestly couldn’t blame him. Things were all over the place. Half-made things and half-destroyed things and things in such a random order of creation or destruction that it hurt to look at them. In all, I found it all rather disgusting to look at.  
And if there was anything living and edible in this place I didn’t find it. Each movement of perpetual hunger was something that I could live with, though I liked to attempt to sate it occasionally.  
I found Wickedheart on what might have been a plateau of rock or what might have been a floating shrub or could have just been everything shoved together at once. He looked back at me with those electric blue eyes and I half froze. Licking my lips, I completed the last amount of distance between us and tried not to look at the blue marking over my ‘brother’s’ pelt as they coruscated and twisted. “What?” he asked. I had to shift my paws as part of the place we were sitting on dissolved back into the … stuff … around us. This place made me really afraid of heights. I think, though I wasn’t too sure, that I’d dissolve in that stuff too if Wickedheart ever wanted me to.  
“Er …” I tried to collect my thoughts again. “Er, Illfur’s all but gone now. If his … parallel cures or kills the last sick cat in the clans than he’ll be out of the picture too. Bloodclaw’s growing weaker by the day. Er …” That was the third time I’d said that. “What should we do?”  
Wickedheart wasn’t looking at me and for that I was grateful.   
“It’s hard to tell,” he finally said. “Whether this is favorable for me or not.” I wondered if he was in a creating or destroying mood today. Often times, it was both, as the landscape around us proved.  
“You’ll be going last, Thinbone, if this is not corrected before then.” I shifted a bit and nodded. It might have seemed like I was free from the same fate as my siblings but that was anything but true. Death was a barrier. Remove it and the flood came. Only Wickedheart was someone that I didn’t think would be affected. He was as much a brother as he was a parent. We all had to come from somewhere and Wickedheart was the idea of chaos given a body and soul.  
And a mind.  
“I believe that having the world, even just a small bit of it, face this is … incorrect,” he said after a while. “It isn’t meant to be nor does it follow the rules.” He looked at me and I shifted a little. All the blue markings he had were fading in and out of my vision. “As I’ve already told Illfur. Bane,” here he gave a small smile, apparently amused by Soulcatcher’s choice of names. “Is doing his best but I would think it to be time we both did our best to consider our own parallels while we still can.”  
I shifted. I was still at full-power, for lack of a better word. I could nominate a parallel without problems. But … “When it was decided to give the Three powers, long before their birth, I studied their futures and according to Soulcatcher neither they nor any of the other cats were suitable. You were the one who already had a parallel of Firestar.” And others. One parallel meant great power but Wickedheart had designated three. Three parallels with the ability to cause mayhem that would benefit or hinder during and before the last battle. Wickedheart shrugged one shoulder, finding my inability to make choices out of simple cats far too amusing.  
“I suggest you look for one that is good enough while you can still offer insight. Mine are too weak as they are, never uniting and always drifting around … Each trying to find their own way in the world.” He seemed very amused with it all, in fact.  
I shifted again. “Fine … Alright. But I doubt it will do any good. Soulcatcher told me what powers would have been gifted if I’d chosen.”  
Wickedheart didn’t seem interested but I continued talking anyway, “It wouldn’t even have time to mature before I got tossed into the mortal realm. And I don’t see how a stunted ability to find things is going to help.”  
“On never knows what a drop in the ocean with do to the level of the water…” mused Wickedheart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in for Book 2: The Butterfly Effect


End file.
